Battlestar Farscape
by Mackon
Summary: No longer updated look for Battlestar Farscape V20 the revision version. The worn down world of new Battlestar gets a hero just as real to life but who still has some energy in him.
1. Chapter 1

Battlestar Farscape

Do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica not profit writing.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 1

_Port Landing Pod Battlestar Galactica._

"Landing Pods Secure commencing countdown to Jump!" The P.A. sounded

though out the hanger deck.

"5"

Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol stared at the Viper coming down on the lift.

"4"

It was a MK V and had been though Hades but someone with a lot of skill had put it back together. The Chiefs experienced eyes followed the lines of the near invisible repairs.

"3"

The nose cone had a shiny new slash running up along the fuselage showing where a Cylon round had scraped by marking but not penetrating the Vipers hull.

"2"

The canopy was up, the cockpit empty. So the pilot must have already got out. Manually popping the release as soon as the lock to the landing track sealed and the lift shaft had pressurized. A bad and unsafe habit that the deck Chief had been trying to brake his pilots of since Starbuck had done it the first time and started the trend.

"1"

Galen had never seen the Viper before in his life.

"Jump"

Which was impossible he knew every inch of every bird on the Galactica.

_C.I.C. Battlestar Galactica._

Commander William Adama stood on the observation deck overlooking C.I.C. doing his job, which at the moment he thought ruefully was standing here being seen and being seen to be calm. While Colonel Saul Tigh and Tactical Officer Lt. Felix Gaeta sweated over the Dradis count of civilian ships in the control pit below him. He heard a relived Gaeta say 56 and Tigh turned to face him.

"All our chicks are accounted for Commander." Adama gave his long time friend a nod and raked his eyes over the command staff.

"Good job people stand down from condition One. We will remain on Condition Two for the next forty minutes until we are sure they did not follow us. Get me damage and casualty reports and have the civy captains check there drives. Colonel you have the bridge. I will be in my office." As Adama turned and made his way to his office he saw Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla answer the internal COM's hand piece after a second listening she looked around briefly then gestured to Tigh. Adama stepped into his office and closed the hatch.

Might as well get off my feet for a few seconds, he thought, Dee had looked worried and William knew that what ever it was would soon land on his desk but despite that he could not help but be pleased. As little as a month ago Dee would have, at the very least looked at her Commander or maybe Lt. Gaeta, before following the chain of command and reporting what ever the problem was to Tigh. But the crew had a lot more faith in the XO now and she had not hesitated. The Battlestar Commander sat down and slipped on his glasses hopefully he could get some work done before it hit the fan.

Saul Tigh bit back a groan when Dualla caught his eye and held out a hand set, offering it to him.

"Colonel I have Chief Tyrol for you. He say's its urgent." These things were never good news and straight after a jump. Off the top of his head he could think of a dozen catastrophes that would need his attention.

"This is the XO, talk to me Chief."

"Move it into one of the Gamma flight bays, Gods know we have enough room, park a trolley infront of it and don't talk to anyone about this Cally." Saul could hear Tyrol talking, obviously not to him, and his temper never the best took a turn for the worse.

"Chief!"

"Sorry Colonel I'm just getting it out of sight."

"Getting what!" Tigh cut himself off and made an effort to rein his temper in. He knew Chief Tyrol was a good soldier and would have a good reason for messing around like this, he'd better anyway. In a calmer voice.

"What's going on Chief."

"Sir this morning we had seven mark five Vipers in service, now we have eight. As far as I can tell it just followed our bird's home and landed. No unit marks, badges or any other identifiers I can find and with that suicide boomer we had a while back I didn't want to call a ship wide intruder alert. Who knows how he would react."

_Commanders office Battlestar Galactica._

"Enter"

Saul Tigh slipped into the room closing the Hatch again behind him Adama noticed. Not a good sign.

"We have a problem Will. Chief Tyrol reports that we got one more Viper back than we sent out. I have already spoken to Sergeant Hadrian to quietly double up guard posts and patrols. Dee is going though the Dradis logs trying to find out where it came from."

Adama winced they had been infiltrated before, but to have the gall to just fly in.

Despite having over 2500 crew onboard people were still used to seeing the same people in the same areas and got to know them at least by sight. Slowly with careful questions from the deck staff and marines that were already in the know, a picture formed of a brown haired man in his early twenty's wearing a flight suit that looked a little odd to people, enough to remember, but not really enough to give him a second glance. Who had last been seen leaving the pilots ready room heading in the direction of the crew quarters.

But there the trail ended a search of quarters turned up nothing, reluctantly the command staff re-introduced checkpoints though out the ship. But in the 10 hours since the jump no new leads had been found.

_Colonel Saul Tigh's Cabin_

Tigh closed the hatch and flicked on his cabins lamp undoing the stiff color on his uniform he stepped into his home for the last 3 years.

"Don't move Colonel."

"What the hell!" Tigh spun toward the voice and found himself looking down the barrel of a service automatic. Saul Tigh was an old soldier, had been through the horrors of the first Cylon war and liked to think he had seen a few things. With the beating everybody had taken since the holocaust it amazed him that this, the sight of a kid, could not be more than 17 years old, in a Colonial cadets uniform holding a gun on him in his own quarters would totally knocked him off balance. He tried to get himself moving but his body would just not react.

"Colonel." The distinctive click of the hammer being cocked back snapped Saul out of his shock.

"Sir on the kitchen counter is a grey cylinder pick it up!" Tigh realized the boy had been speaking while he had been woolgathering and he had not answered, making the kid with the gun repeat himself.

"What is this about Cadet, where did you come from." Looking around he saw the cylinder sitting on his kitchen counter in some kind of cradle with lead running off to the wall power socket.

"Colonel I will place myself under your command as soon as you pick up the cylinder and press the button on it. If you do not follow my instructions I will shoot you and move on to the next in line of command. My orders are very clear and I will follow them!"

Saul's mind raced as he walked slowly over to his cabin's small kitchen area, the damm thing looked like a grenade, an old one from the beginning of the war. Replaced before he ever joined up hell before he was born but still there had been some around in his cadet days. But the kid said he would place himself under Saul's command as soon as he finished with it and if he wanted to kill the Colonel? Why not just shoot him. What the hell was going on!

Tigh picked the grey cylinder out of its cradle, noting the metal contacts, confirming his first thought that the cradle was a charging unit. Looking at the kid all Tigh could see was determination, maybe a little nervousness. The grenade? Offered no clue as to its purpose, a plastic tube with a serial number that meant nothing to Tigh running down the side, sealed both ends with slightly darker grey plastic caps the bottom with two metal plates to fit the charger. The top with a big red button sticking out of it 20cm long 8cm across. Saul decided he was not getting anywhere just staring at it and with an unvoiced curse he pressed the button.

CLICK! That was it, just a loud mechanical sounding click and the red light in the button went out. He felt a slight shock through his hand and something moving inside the thing. Nothing else happened.

"What the hell is this, who are you and what in Hades are you doing waving a gun around in my cabin." Tigh bellowed. The Cadet was already going through the motions to safely holster his side arm. He finished clipping down the flap on his holster, came to attention then saluted.

"Sir Lieutenant Junior Grade Mark Usen, sir my orders were to get on board and without making my presence known to possible enemy agents and making sure that you yourself were not on enemy agent report to the XO Galactica for debrief."

Saul did not react well to surprises and this situation was bizarre. But looking at the cadet infront of him standing at rigid attention eyes straight ahead. He was starting to get some idea of what was going on and at least on some level, very junior officer reporting something red hot! to a new commanding officer He was on familiar ground. He decided to just follow his gut instincts. But first.

"Give me your side arm Lieutenant." Saul held out his hand and was only mildly surprised when the gun was instantly handed over he glanced at it briefly, a standard issue C.D.F pistol. Saul settled down on one of the kitchen stools placing the gun on the counter close at hand.

"What ship are you off of."

"The Xiphos (1) Sir a Calypso class frigate." Tigh new little about the Calypso class they were new only being introduced to the fleet 2 years ago there were not many of them about most of their scout/support duties still carried out by the older Nautilus class. He could not remember seeing one. But Captain Davis Carey had told him that his ship Colonial Heavy 798, now named Colonial One, was a civilian variant on the Calypso hull.

"Did you come aboard the Galactica on that MK V Viper."

"Yes Sir." The kid looked damm proud of himself and Saul did not blame him as the Old man had said earlier the gall it would take to just wonder into a battle and land on a hostile Battlestar. It was not something Tigh would have liked to do.

"What's is this and how does it prove I am not a Cylon." Holding up the damm grenade looking thing. That was one of the important bits of info and Saul would really like to know what it had done to him.

"Sir I am not quite sure how it works I think only the Commander understood all the notes on it. But it's a Ragnar effect grenade and if you had been a Cylon, well I have seen what it did to one of the human copy types he went into convolutions and died with in a few minutes Sir." Saul looked down at what he had in his hands a Cylon detector the special project that, that quack Balter had been messing around with since the holocaust and still hadn't got right. If he was to believe all this.

"Who's your Captain and is the Xiphos on her own." Saul stood up and marched over to his sleeping area this was getting interesting and it was time to get Will in on it. Beside the head of his bed was his cabins COM's set he picked it up.

"Captain Carter is Xiphos commander Greenbean Carter we are on detached duty from the fleet." Fleet that caught Tigh's attention but he did not want to go into details until Adama could get here.

"I knew a Greenbean Carter how did he make it off of Picon."

Tigh hit operator button and spoke into the hand piece.

"This is Colonel Tigh put me though to the Commander urgent."

"He was at the Artemis valley Academy same as me, we were evacuated by the Commander the day of the holocaust."

"Will this Saul could you come down to my cabin now you need to see this. Clear sky's all the way."

Tigh had kept his eyes on Lieutenant Usen and noted that the cadet was getting more nervous and could guess what was upsetting the kid. He strode past the stiff figure still at attention and placed the Ragnar grenade back in its charger.

"How long does this thing take to recharge." Saul new the boy would not want to talk to anyone who had not been tested.

"10 minutes sir!" Yes the kid was definitely nervous but he had put himself in Tigh hands and Saul did not like having guns pointed at him. Evan if he did understand and approve of the reasons.

"Might be done by the time the Commander gets here, at ease son take a seat. Tell me about the commander of this fleet who managed to get you of Picon when everyone only managed to die."

Lieutenant Usen brightened as he took a seat in the lounge area and Saul got the strong impression that this was one of his favorite topics.

"Commander Critchon sir John Critchon."

A/N

1 Xiphos ancient Greek infantry sword


	2. Chapter 2

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica not making a profit writing this.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Thanks to andrewjameswilliams for pointing out a rather silly error on my part.

Chapter 2

_Alpha 2 Patrol Group, Nike System._

Captain Susan "Char" Usen led her patrol of three Vipers and one Raptor around the perimeter of the Fleet.

Captain! the eighteen-year-old thought three months ago she and most of her fellow pilots had been cadets together on Picon, now she was one of the Fleets senior officers. Not one of the top decision-makers thank the Gods, they had the Commander and the other top brass for that, but still a hell of a jump. A beep from the flight computer had her checking the Viper's instruments.

"Okay people Waypoint in 30 seconds. I want a smooth course change stay in formation and watch the clearance between you and your wingmates."

Susan checked her own Heads up Display it would not be funny if she was the one to mess up. On her Vipers HUD the mission clock counted down when it reached zero she eased the control stick though the well-practiced motions to bring the Viper onto its new heading. Quickly checking the Dradis, Susan saw the rest of Alpha 2 follow her though the maneuver the three Viper's in a arrowhead formation one trailing a hundred meter's off each of her wings with the Raptor tucked into the center of the formation.

"Well Alpha 2 that's our excitement for the next 30 minutes, stay sharp this is a patrol not a cruise."

The four C.D.F. warcraft flew through space giving Susan a panoramic view of the Fleet. In the distance the reassuring form of the Battlestar Medusa bracketed on each side by her escorts the Battle Cruisers Hyperion and Helios. The Hyperion almost unrecognizable covered in gantries and with the repair ship parked right on its hull its arms extended to cover the top decks where she had taken the most damage. Then there was the Nike Anchorage where she and the rest of the people recused from Picon had been squeezed when the troop carriers had off loaded them to go back for more. Three of the four troop carriers were still docked at the small Anchorage. The fourth had been destroyed when they had gone back one time too many. Ripped apart by a Cylon Baseship's rail guns as it tried to take off from Picon with 2700 refugee's crammed onboard. Barely visible from this distance the five Nautilus class Frigates stationed around the Anchorage the 84-meter long ships appearing as oddly shaped dots at this range. On this side of the Fleet were the civilian ships that had joined up with them as they ran and dwarfing them all was the brooding presence of the Hades.

"Silver Eye's to Char we are picking up a power spike bearing 260 degrees." The Raptors had much more powerful sensors than her Viper  
Susan did not bother checking her own instuments automatically she looked to her left at the ranks of two dozen odd civilian ships they were flying parallel too, on this leg of the patrol route.

"Pin it down Silver Eye's Alpha 2 we are coming about 250 degrees off our currant heading. In 3 2 1 go." Susan "Char" Usen rolled her Viper and came back on the new heading, almost without thinking about it as she changed frequencies.

"This is lead Alpha 2 to Medusa repeat this is lead, patrol group Alpha 2 come in Medusa."

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

"Medusa here Captain, we receive you." Petty Officer Second Chis Mycen Medusa's communications officer on watch

"Alpha 2 is diverting to investigate an energy spike detected in the vicinity of the civilian squadron our Raptor is tracking down which one it came from now."

"Confirmed Captain have your Raptor relay sensor readings to CIC."

Chris turned to report to Major Dies but the Medusa's XO waved him back.

"I heard P.O. get the Alert Vipers out there to cover for Alpha 2, Lieutenant Perry what do we have on the civilian squadron."

Lieutenant Koine Perry the operations officer was already at the Dradis computer interface poring over the records from the ranks of stood down civilian ships that made up the squadron.

"The station keeping crew for the Planet Taxi, Sterling switched out an hour ago they reported to the Leading Star that the change over was complete, with no problems at 2300 that was 54 minutes ago no activity since then." The Leading Star was a luxury cruiser from the star line shipping consortium the Fleet used it as home base and living quarters for the crews that kept the civilian squadron in service for when they would be needed again.

Major Hal Dies looked over the command pit and for a second, wondered what he was doing here; he had never wanted a line command. He had been an administration coordinator with Colonial Fleet Science division before John Crichton had dragged him and a few others off of a crumbling Fleet Command, as the giant Achorage was nuked to scrap over Picon. Hal shook the wave of doubt off as he always did; he felt them less and less nowadays. He had been thrust into command positions since the first day after the holocaust, as one of the few surviving experienced officers and he knew in the last months he had earned the respect of his crew.

"Get the Sterling on the barker just do a routine check, sound them out P.O." he told Petty Officer Mycen.

"Aye Sir." Chris was already changing frequencies as he answered.

Hal watched him work for a second, planning, then looked to the other rating at the communication desk Specialist Michele Owens.

"Misty get me Colonel Torins on the Hades."

"Aye Sir." The young Libran girl was barely 15 she had just started at the Artemis Academy when the worlds had ended

"We are getting telemetry from Alpha 2s Raptor they picked up a second energy spike and have confirmed the origin, it's the Sterling." Lieutenant Perry reported

Dies took the COM's hand piece the specialist held out to him; Colonel Paula Torins was the XO of the Hades. The massive Hades class Cylon Baseship was a relic of the first Cylon war which the survivors were refitting for their own use as fast as they could. It was where most of the Fleets civilians now lived and worked.

Colonel Torins was also the Fleets senior marine.

"Paula its Hal, we have something brewing out in the civy squadron I would like to request your stand by dropship be readied for possible boarding action." He could send a troop of Medusa's own marines in Raptors but a dropship could carry more bodies and was built for hostile landings unlike the more all purpose Raptors.

"Sir Warbook has a 73 percent match on the energy spike as an attempt to cold start an old pre war fusion reactor."

"Damm" The civilian ships that were no longer needed for living quarters. Now that the life support on the Hades could handle the 20 odd thousand refugees plus the crew and the marines stationed there. Were powered for life support and station keeping only. Most of their reactors and energizers disabled, with jump keys and crucial parts under guard in a big safe on the Leading Star.

"Looks like we have some runners Paula I will have our telemetry relayed, Over." Major Dies handed the hand set back to Specialist Owens.

"Sir the Sterling crew say everything's fine and thanks for asking." Petty Officer Mycen reported "They sound pretty exited about it too." The native of Aquaria added wryly.

"Lieutenant Perry Alpha 2 is authorized to go live on weapons, they are to use what ever methods they have too, to stop our position being revealed to the enemy. P.O. let me talk to Commander Sun."

_Commander Aeryn Sun's Cabin Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

Aeryn jerked away from shrill ringing of the COM's, coming it seemed from right next to her head, instantly awake and aware she grabbed the antiquated communications device.

"Sun!" getting up she switched the COM's to speaker and started getting dressed while her second in command explained the situation.

"Very good Major I will be there shortly, order the rest of the Civilian ships out of the area to give us some room to move. Sun out." Watching herself in the mirror as she straightened her uniform jacket and started doing up the numerous buttons and fastening's that made up the Colonial uniform. Aeryn Sun could not quite make herself believe how truly weird her life had become. Since the day 3 and a half years ago when she had been sucked along in starburst by an escaping Leviathan and found herself in the company of the crazed human scientist John Crichton.

They had run into Alien's with god like powers, been chased all over the Uncharted Territories. She now had Pilot DNA mixed with her own; she and Chiana were the godparents to a Leviathan Peacekeeper hybrid Gunship. They had been twined by that fahrbot Kaarvok then dragged along by the dying Leviathan Rovhu in his desperate starburst to some kind of Builders shipyard. Now they were in charge of a fleet of frelling humans, who being Human had of course built A.I.s who went mad and started killing everyone. To top it off, John was nearly convinced that the diseased Leviathan's starburst, while in a Peacekeeper control collar no less, something that should have been impossible, had been so dren that they were probably lost in time.

Again.

_Alpha 2 Patrol Group, Nike System_

"Frak, Medusa something's launched from the Sterling it looks old. Hades it looks ancient its fast though, maybe twice the size of a Raptor we are moving in Frak! The Frakkers armed." Char threw her Viper into a mad twist to avoid the stream of rounds streaking at her from the target just managing to pull out of the line of fire. The Raptor in formation behind her was not as maneuverable. Its pilot's reflexes not as good, it flew straight into the oncoming fire. The Raptors armored hull took most of the hits but the small spacecraft was knocked into a spin and started leaking atmosphere before straightening out and gamely heading back into the fight.

"Silver Eyes pull back. Strife, Bulldog move up to box him." Char jockeyed the controls trying to line up a shot while setting off her afterburner and still she and her wingmen were falling behind

"Silver Eye's to Char they're spinning up their FTL they are going to try for a jump." The Raptors co-pilots voice.

"Got-you." As the runners ship drifted into the cross hairs, her thumb pressed firmly down on her auto-canons firing button. Unlike the runners her rounds were armor piercing. Chunks exploded from the fleeing ship but after it had ducked out of the line of fire it was still going as fast as ever and leaving her patrol's MK VII's in its exhaust.

"Son of a gun. Switch to missiles Alpha 2. You tough fracker lets see how you like this." As Susan flipped up the series of switches arming the MK VII's missiles Strife racing along, on her port side let loose another stream of AC fire missing the franticly dodging target.

"Got tone, firing!" Char's Viper shuddered slightly as two of her four missiles streaked away, eating up the distance between her and the boxy slow looking but ridiculously fast ship she was chasing.

The first missile closed in and looked like it would make a clean strike when there was the familiar brilliant flash and the runner ship disappeared into a FTL jump the missile followed by its twin, diving through the same space less than a second later.

"Damm." Char punched her fist savagely into the canopy above her head

"Medusa this is Lead Alpha 2 I lost them the runners have jumped. Repeat the runners have jumped."

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

Aeryn reached the command deck in time to hear Captain Usen's report and the cursing it caused amongst her command staff. Aeryn felt like cursing herself but as John would say the cat was out of the bag now no use crying about it, or some other Erp saying. With two quick strides she was at the inter Fleet communication station. Her hand resting gently on Specialist Michele Owens shoulder the girl was shaken and looked about to faint, Misty knew as well as they all did what the escape of the runners meant. Their luck had run out.

"Get me Hades Actual, Specialist." The former Peacekeeper's voice was brisk and calmly authoritative in contrast to the hand that gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Aye Sir." Misty Owens hands shook slightly as they went through the familiar motions but her voice was steady as she talked to her opposite number on the Hades. She had watched a world burn as they were evacuated from the Academy. On the last of the troop carriers Commander Crichton and, the then Colonel Sun had used to save who they could. The week after had been a blur of shouted instructions as the Fleet had run and hid and twice fought. With no time to organize anything. Most of the cadets who weren't immediately needed on the ships they had managed to salvage had been moved from ship to ship without any Idea of what was going on.

"Hades Actual Sir."

"Colonel Torins what's the ETA for the return of Commander Crichton's expedition." Aeryn knew exactly when John was due back from his trip to check on Rovhu the Leviathan's was still healing even after nearly a year submerged in the planetoid sized ball of goo which was apparently the Builders idea of a shipyard.

"Nine Hours Forty minutes Sir."

"Send a Raptor after him I am authorizing you to disclose the position of Cauldron as needed. On my Authority as temporary Fleet commander I am initiating operation Bug Out." Not even the 1200 ex Xarai, that the healing powers of the Builders Goo had returned to something like Sebacean norm, knew where Cauldron was.

"Operations pull up the co-ordinates for the Xiphos meeting with Galactica's forces and replace the first option Bug Out co-ordinates with them, make sure everyone has got the updated orders."

Aeryn Looked around her command deck, at her people as they hurried to the task's she had set them with a smooth military discipline. She did not regret leaving the PeaceKeepers and had come to appreciate the freedom her life on Moya had given her. But she knew right down to her bones this is where she belonged on a Military ship working with those who shared her Duty. The PeaceKeepers had literally bred her for this and they had done their job well.

A/N

Xarai were the PeaceKeeper crew of Rovhu when the Leviathan served as a prison ship Kaarvok a prisoner onboard escaped during a attack and used his twinning beam on them over and over again making them devolve.

The Builders are the Leviathan Gods and creators

Gone a little AU here originally Aeryn stayed on Moya and never got twinned


	3. Chapter 3

Battlestar Farscape 

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 3

_Briefing Room, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Mark Usen stood in the regulation at ease posture and looked at his audience, Commander Adama sat at the desk at the head of the room with President Laura Roslin next to him. Fanning out around the two central figures were Captain Lee Adama the Galactica's CAG and Presidential Aid Tory Foster each standing next to there seated bosses. Completing the formation arrayed against him, well that's what it felt like anyway, were two marines in battle gear armed with P90 submachine guns and a marine Sargent. Commander Adama had addressed her as Master-at-Arms but nether neither she nor the other marines had been introduced. There was also a blonde woman; a Viper pilot by her uniform leaning with her back against the rooms closed door.

They had all been tested using the Ragnar Effect grenade. Mark had been told while he had been locked in Colonel Tigh's quarters and they were rushing his blood through their own Cylon test, it had all been organized very quickly after he had spoken to Commander Adama the first time.

"All right lieutenant, we are all here, why don't you start with your Fleet how many people, how many ship's and of what classes." Adama started the ball rolling.

"Sir the Fleet numbers 47 438 survivors, we have two Capital ship's the Columbia class Battlestar Medusa and The Hades which is the Flagship, then two Dreadnought Class Battle Cruisers the Hyperion and Helios. The Hyperion is still under repair; she took a lot of damage during the Holocaust. The Frigate squadron has six units with one Calypso class and five Nautilus. The support ships are one Repair Ship of the Dockers class two Mule Class fleet tenders and three Tauron class troop carriers."

"There are also twenty nine civilian ships of various classes the biggest is the Botanical Explorer then the Hospital ship."

"The Botanical Explorer you have the Museum of Natural history's flagship with your fleet." Laura Roslin interrupted

"Yes Madam President, we re-captured it on the first day, Colonel Torins she's the XO of the Hades now. Well she pretty much took over the evacuation ships that Commander Crichton sent to Camp Sparta. With the two Troop Carriers and her own wing of Marine dropships they boarded the Botanical Explorer, it was on its way from Picon to Aerelon. The Cylon's had landed troops on board trying to take it intact but the marines managed to destroy them all, saved nearly 6000 people tourist's, crew and staff." Mark had been onboard one of the Troop Carriers after having volunteered to man one of the ships, gun turrets.

Captain Lee "Apollo" Adama was frowning he had picked up on the rather odd way the lieutenant had listed the Capital ships of his Fleet. As if the Medusa was the ship of note even through The Hades carried the Flag

"Lieutenant you didn't mention the class, of the Battlestar Hades." Lee was pretty sure that he knew the names of every Battlestar that made up the CDF pre-holocaust and Hades did not ring any bells.

"Sir well… The Hades, actually the Hades isn't a Battlestar." Mark winced at this question but knew the story had to be told. "The Hades is a first war Hades class Command Baseship that we refitted Sir."

Commander Adama already knew about the Hades from Lieutenant Usen's first debrief. But it's was a shock to everyone else in the room Laura Roslin and Tory Foster were the least affected by the news. Apart from a possible morale boost and any added protection it could provide they felt it was best left to the military, both were much more interested in the survival of the Botanical Explorer that ship was a living piece of Colonial culture. Had a well-stocked library, a zoo full of animals from each world, a museum of their history and a small teaching college.

For the CDF and CMC people it was a different mater. There had only been five Cylon command Baseship's sighted. Each leading they're own fleets of the smaller, only twice the size of a Battlestar, Assault class Baseship's. Two had been destroyed towards the end of twelve-year war. It was thought that the loss of those massive ships the core of the Cylon war machine, was one of the main reasons for the Cylon retreat.

"Where the Frakk did you get a Cylon Command ship from?" Lieutenant Kara "Starbuck" Thrace nearly shouted, from her place covering the door. Just managing to keep her voice down. She was surposed to be guarding the door to keep the secrets inside the room; not shouting them out to who ever was passing by in the hallway.

"Only the top Brass know all the details sir. It was passed along to the troops, when it showed up, that it was recovered from the Cauldron system. Completely intact I was on board before they started cleaning it up, it was spooky. All these Cylons, Must have been thousands of them lying where they fell or some still standing at their posts but dead. Hangers full of raiders all just stopped. We have been ripping them apart and melting them down for three months now and there are still two cargo holds fall of them." Mark answered

"How did you find us Lieutenant." Again Adama knew the answer but he wanted the meeting to move forward not get stuck down on detail, and he knew the boy infront of him did not know or wasn't telling anything else about the Baseship. Bill Adama was going to ask some questions of Commanders Crichton and Sun when they met through.

"We were able to intercept some enemy communication's with the gear on The Hades so we knew when and where they tracked down the Galactica." Mark said mentally bracing himself

"And it didn't occur to you to give us a heads up, maybe even help!" Lee Adama snapped they had lost two Viper pilots in the last attack.

"Sir! You people are still compromised by Cylon human copy's the Commander felt it an unacceptable risk to show ourselves before we could help you remove them. As far as our communication's intercepts show they are unaware of the Fleet and it's an advantage we can not give away." Mark had heard the debates for and against joining up with other refugee groups, it was a major topic of conversation in the Fleet especially amongst CDF personnel

"About that Lieutenant, this Ragnar Effect grenade where did it come from. It looked old but none of us have ever heard of anything like it." Laura Roslin broke in hoping to cut off an angry confrontation she could see both sides of the issue and could see no point in discussing it now.

It worked diverting all the military personnel.

"Yes that's something I would like to hear too.' Adama added. It was one of the points he had yet to cover with the Lieutenant.

"Well sir they were stored at Fleet Headquarters over Picon in the Science Division, Commander Crichton took them with him when they evacuated it wasn't until later that we found out what they were. The R E grenades were developed near the end of the first war but were never put into production because they don't work." Mark answered glad to be diverted from the brewing argument with his superior officer.

"What do you mean, don't work what was all the urgency to get us tested with them if they don't work." Tory had been one of the last to be tested and had to wait around while the thing recharged

"Sorry ma'am. When I say, didn't work I mean they didn't do what the designers wanted. It was surposed to be a grenade to be used in combat. When the best they could do, had to be in direct physical contact with the enemy and with only an 83 percent kill rate even then. The project was abandoned. Commander Crichton picked up the prototypes; the box was marked grenades, as they were running through an old supply room. He thought they would come in handy." It was one of the better stories going around about Commander Crichton's escape.

"Thank you Lieutenant I think that will be all unless anyone else has a question." Laura wanted to talk over what they had already heard and make some preliminary plans on how to deal with this other fleet.

When no one spoke up Sergeant Hadrian gestured for her men to escort Mark out.

When the young Lieutenant had left the room President Roslin looked around at her people.

"Well Commander what are your thoughts?" Laura said.

"There is something a little off with the story, but I can't put my finger on it. The young lieutenant is either a gifted actor or exactly what he appears to be. Master-at-Arms have you heard of this Colonel Torins." Adama knew that the marines were a very close knit community.

"Yes sir. I remember hearing about it when she was appointed Tactics Instructor at Camp Sparta a good marine from all accounts." Sargent Elster Hadrian answered

"The Raptor should be arriving to meet with the Xiphos now, we will have more to go on when we have talked to her Captain." Lee "Apollo" Adama said he was of two minds about their dealings with the other Fleet so far. But on the whole couldn't see how it could be a bad thing.

"It will be good to get some back up Sir, Madam President things are getting thin down on the Flight deck." Starbuck threw in, since she had busted up her leg she'd had a lot of time to talk to her pilots.

"It will be a tremendous boost to morale Ma'am" Tory added

President Laura Roslin listened, but most of her attention was on her vision of the future. A future that looked that much more secure now. with nearly doubling the number of survivors.

"Right, we wait for more information. Tory we are staying on Galactica at least until the Xiphos arrives and I have talked to Captain Carter you had better let Billy know." Laura Roslin ended the meeting

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System. _

John Crichton waded through the blue Goo, making his way through the familiar red and scarlet passageways heading to the Pilots Den. The Goo was down to his knees now and he could only take that as a good sign. When Rovhu had first landed on Cauldron and sank into the bizarre Builders structure, all the decks had flooded with the stuff and even with his life the way it had been for the last few years. Drowning had not been one of his happier experiences, learning humans/sebacean's could breath the blue jelly like stuff had not made up for the minutes of panic as he and Aeryn had struggled to get out of the sinking Leviathan.

The two marines following him glared around, aiming their gunlights into every corner, not liking the alien surroundings. Probably Seran was having a harder time of it than Price, Crichton thought, the Sebacean women had the confused jumble of memory's that was her past life to deal with. Before she woke up on the surface of Cauldron while her Human partner only had trained paranoia and good old fear of the unknown to keep him starting at shadows

The small group turned the final corner toward the Dens main entrance bulkhead and Crichton was pleased to see that the walls, even here where the Xarai had done the most damage, looked healthy, more reminiscent of Moya than the diseased Leviathan he remembered. Leaning against the wall by the open door were three blue figures. Crichton frowned there should have been four Chiana, D'Argo and two Xarai.

Crichton quickened his pace. It was all but impossible to run on Goo, he had found, poor traction. As he slid to a stop infront of his two friends he saw the body of one of the Xarai, a man, slumped down next to the other figures. Crichton didn't need to check to know that he was dead, he did anyway. He knew how the Goo acted after over a year and a half messing with the stuff. Even if he had no idea how it worked. Under the best microscopes and scanners he could build it just looked like blue Goo but put it next to an injury and it hardened into a crystal like shell which slowly faded away until it and the injury was gone. But in some cases the stuff decided there was no way to fix what ever it was healing, and then it just fell off. Leaving the patient to his or her own devices. And considering the only ones it happened to so far had been dead before the blue cocoon formed, well it didn't leave much room to argue.

Leaving the corpse Crichton turned to study Chiana and D'Argo they and the remaining Xarai still had a fine coating of blue so they were still healing. The Goo was amazing during the violent Starburst and the more violent crash, Xarai had been crushed impaled and had arms or legs ripped off. They had all, even the dead ones been fine in a few weeks a month or two at the most. But apparently having all the fluids sucked out of your brain and spine was a bit trickier to heal.

"Yo Pilot how you doing?" Satisfied with his friends Crichton moved on through the open bulkhead into the Den.

"Both I and Rovhu are in excellent health, thank you for your concern Commander." Rovhu's Pilot did look good all his arms had grown back and were now full sized. There wasn't even a scar where Kaarvok had jammed a probe into his skull.

John looked around. The shaft under the walkways was still filled with Goo but apart from that it looked achingly like the Den where he had spent hours talking with Moya's Pilot.

"Good day Private Seran, Private Price." The two Marines answered Pilot haltingly. Nether comfortable with such an alien looking being. Crichton was sure that's why the Pilot always made a point of talking to his or Aeryn's escorts, whenever they visited. Rovhu's Pilot had not forgotten anything that happened to him and although not really wanting to hurting anyone. There was always an undercurrent of what Crichton could only think of as malice with his dealings with the Xarai.

"When do you think the Cauldron will be finished with Rovhu Pilot." This was worrying Crichton he had expected the Leviathan to be healed by now. Rovhu was a sitting duck on the surface for any passing Cylon patrol and although Cauldron had shown it could defend itself from Cylon's who were stupid enough to land. A bombing run might kill the Leviathan before the Builder artifact knew they were there.

On the other hand while the Leviathan stayed on the Cauldron he was out of site of the Fleet. And while neither he nor Aeryn had made a secret of their origins they hadn't made a big deal of them either The two Commanders had told their closest associates the whole story and made sure the emerging leaders of the Fleet knew at least the bare facts. Crichton was pretty sure that most people assumed they were just crazy and put up with them out of loyalty. He didn't know how they would react to having a real live alien ship suddenly thrust in their faces.

"One Weeken Commander two at the most, Rovhu and I are looking forward to flying free again. If I may Commander, Rovhu is most interested, did the latest design's prove workable." John had brought his blueprints for updating Colonial technology to let both the Pilot and Rovhu go over them. They had both helped him work the bugs out of just about all the systems he was slowly introducing to the Fleet; the only one they couldn't help with had been the defense screen. Even with that they had proved to be quick studies.

"Yes indeedy Pilot the Prowler schematics you provided and his insights into ship construction helped a lot, so did the computer models you whipped up." For beings like the Pilot. Whose spoken language was more complex than most advanced computer programs and multi-tasking a hundred different problems at a time came as easily as breathing, or the Leviathan that experienced the universe through so many different levels a mere humanoid lifeform could barely conceive of it. Nether Colonial or Cylon computers had proven much of a challenge. They had created a program that proofed the Fleet against computer virus attack at the level the Cylons worked at in two hours after John had shown them the problem.

"Commander, Rovhu has just detected another FTL event in orbit." Pilot reported sounding worried. John had told him his fears about the Cylon discovering the Leviathan.

"Damm! Can you make out what it is Pilot." Critchon answered.

"It appears to be match for Colonial signatures we have observed when you or Commander Sun come to visit I believe you call them Raptors It is making contact with the Guard ship in orbit." Crichton didn't like the sound of this, though better than the alternative a Colonial ship could only mean trouble back at the Fleet.

"Let me speak to them Pilot." John ordered.

"One microt Commander, it should be simply to lock onto the frequency's they are using. Stand by, there if you talk now I believe they will hear you." Pilot's arms moved gracefully as it worked four controls at once.

"Raptor that just jumped in, Identify yourself." Crichton always had to stop himself from doing a John Wayne impression in these situations; it never went down well even back on Earth when people had known what the frell he was going on about.

"This is Raptor 09 of The Hades Commander." The pilot of Raptor 09 Lieutenant Rachel "Swan" Archela was someone Crichton had worked with on the Hades. Another kid the girl had turned 17 three weeks ago.

"Hey Swan this is a restricted system what are you and your bird doing here?" Crichton asked.

"Sir Commander Sun has declared operation Bug Out we were sent to get you back. Sir what is this place, Colonel Torins said it was odd but the readings we are seeing up here are freaky." John could imagine Cauldron looked like a giant bright blue ball from space 18800 kilometers across with another 2 km of atmosphere that had no reason to be there. The readings from the Goo always came back as indeterminate or unknown then there was the massive life sign of the Leviathan.

"I tell you all about it when I get up there Swan let my pilot "Prowler" know I am heading back to the Guard and you had better brief Captain Croft of what is going on ETA ten minutes." Prowler was the pilot of Crichton's ship a yacht they had recovered that The Hades used as a FTL capable shuttle. Captain Croft was the Captain of the CDF Guard.

"Sir we could come down and pick you up." Lieutenant Archela said doubtfully.

"That's a negative Swan Cauldron's not very friendly to thrust assist ships Crichton out." The Goo seemed quite happy supporting a ship once it was landed. But the downward exhaust created by Colonial ships tended to brake the surface tension and they would sink like a stone.

Crichton turned to his Marines

"Okay kids looks like the excursions been called off come on." John started out of the Den

"Pilot I got to go, either Aeryn or I will be here in two weekens to check on Pip and Big D. And to see Rovhu's take off. Bye now."

Private Seran stuck her head out the airlock and quickly scanned the broad expanse of the Leviathan's back. Seeing nothing that wasn't there 25 minutes ago, she climbed up onto the living ships hull and took position to cover Crichton as he joined her then Private Price climbed up on rear guard. Seran breathed a silent sigh of relief being inside the thing was not good and she enjoyed the fresh air as they jogged down the gently slopping hull toward the shuttle.

The Shuttle was a Cylon machine the same one Crichton and Aeryn had discovered when they first crashed on Cauldron it was big. As shuttles and other small craft went larger than a Raptor or those Marauders Seran sometimes had nightmares about trying to reach struggling through fire and smoke.

When Crichton and Aeryn had first seen it the oblong shaped ship had been surrounded by deactivated silver robots and some still unidentified equipment. It had taken them a week to get it going then they had flown to what they thought was the space station they could clearly see orbiting Cauldron. From there the two had taken the only FTL ship they could find that worked the ship that was now the CDF system patrol ship Guard. It was the Cylon version of a frigate. Saucer shaped 900 meters across with a large wedge cut out the front jauntily named a Hunter-Killer, to the closest star system which had turned out to be home to the abandoned Nike Anchorage. There they had found records and discovered the Colony's.

The Shuttle landed easily with its antigrav lowering it to a soft contact between landing gear and shuttle bay. Crichton quickly exited the craft, feeling the urgency needing to get back to Nike and find out what was happening. Waiting to meet him outside the shuttle bay airlock were Captain Mace Croft and the two pilots Lieutenant Rachel "Swan" Archela from the Hades, Raptor, and Lieutenant "Prowler" Kreen. All three officers snapped to attention as Crichton and his marine escort came up to them.

Crichton acknowledged the salutes and turned to Lieutenant Archela.

"What happened Rachel?" John asked

"Sir just after you left we had another runner attempt. They had an old souped-up blockade-runner hidden on one of the civy ships. They made the Jump before the Viper patrol could knock them down. Medusa Actual immediately started operation Bug Out and ordered Colonel Torins to send us after you." Lieutenant Archela reported.

"Frell or Frak whatever, this isn't good Okay Rachel you come back with us see if you can keep up with the Yacht." Crichton was moving as he was talking heading for the bay where his ship was landed.

"We should have time to salvage they Anchorage and get everybody out of Dodge if where really lucky the Cylons might even miss them and the idiots get away clean." Critchon said

"I think the best we can hope for is if the Can Openers shoot first and there not anything left question. Sir." Captain Croft opinioned as he escorted his guests to their ships.

_Blockade Runner Cheetah, Hydra System Occupied Colonial Space._

Captain Alexander cursed as his ship wobbled off course again. The dammed Viper had gotten a big piece of the old pre war blockade-runner. The Cheetah was a tough ship with good thick armor, but still the old girl was pushing well past sixty and could not take too much of a beating from modern weapons.

Alexander wrestled the sluggishly responding ship back under control. He and his crew could not afford for the Cheetah to act up now. They were making their way, carefully through the Hydra asteroid belt. Heading for the Base, which meant they needed every ounce of agility, their ship could produce, or some lump of rock would swat them like a fly.

Finally they cleared the debris field and broke out into the small clearing the Base occupied. Alexander let himself relax a bit. The tension had been mounting since he and his crew had embarked on their grand plan. As he set his ship on final approach to the abandoned mining station that had become the headquarters of the Alexander Syndicate he thought over the plan, they had very nearly not made it.

He and his crew, all shareholders in good standing with the Alexander Syndicate were not like the normal runners. Those fools in the months since the holocaust seemed to just go nuts. Believing they would be safer on there own or that they needed to get back to the Colony's to save someone or just to die at home. People would snap and one day try to take a ship and run.

No Alexander knew he was better off with the Medusa and the other Colonial warships around. What he objected to was his new place in the scheme of things. There was no way he, an experienced and respected Free trader (read pirate) was going to end his days as some anonymous factory worker, thus the Plan.

The Cheetah was not the only ship the Alexander Syndicate boasted they also had collected over the year's one nearly new commercial space tug. With it they planned on making a quick run through the Colonial home systems. During the attack the Cylons had used their computer virus to take out the bulk of the Colonial Defense Forces and although more often than not they had followed up with missiles, or riddled the helplessly drifting ships with rail gun fire. There were still some perfectly intact ships floating around. If they could snag something and Alexander was confident that his tug could take a destroyer or maybe even a light cruiser, if they had time to rig it right. Then they would head back to the Nike system instant Hero's and more to the point back on the right end of the pecking order.

Besides they had really needed to get away from the Fleet for a while. It had just been the Syndicates bad luck that when the Attack came they had been in the middle of re-negotiating the ownership of the Sterling. When it became obvious that they would have to hook up with the military, well they could hardly have the planet taxi's original crew running around telling tales could they. Turning up in the Cheetah, which had quite a reputation, would not have worked either so there had been no choice. It had all been sweat, but now the damm Marshals had gotten themselves organized and were operating out of their new offices on The Hades, people were nosing around asking questions.

The old blockade-runner settled down onto its landing pad with a groan. Alexander and his crew sealed their pressure suits and made the short walk across the airless chamber to the airlock leading into the mining station's admin and living quarters. The pirate Captain was working though in his mind what they needed to do. Out of the original ten-man team one had never shown up, back on the Leading Star and another two had been killed as they had made their getaway. Cut to pieces when a Auto Cannon round had ricocheted around inside the small engineering compartment The tug had not been used in a while and would need at least some work to get it ready. As he cycled through the small airlock and walked into his head quarters he was already picturing the scene. The Syndicates triumphant return with his new Light Cruiser re-named the Alexander, in tow. His second in command and co-pilot threw the big power switch mounted just inside the inner door and light flooded the common room.

Captain Luke Alexander ex merchant marine and Pirate staggered to a halt, stunned by the sight of an incredible blonde, in a slinky red cocktail dress? Standing in the middle of his base. It was not until their eye slits lit up and the red glow started scanning from side to side with a nightmarish hum, that he noticed the Centurions lining the walls

"Fancy meeting you here. We were just having a look around, we didn't expect guests" Six smiled dazzlingly at the three shaking humans infront of her. The beautiful smile grew wider as the man in the center of the trio slowly slumped to his knees

"I think we will have a chat."

A/N Damm that was a big chapter hope you enjoy it All reviews good or bad welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

Battlestar Farscape 

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 4

_Xiphos Rendezvous System_

Lt. Junior Grade Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii fought the dark fog that for the last few weeks seemed to be creeping up on her thoughts, pushing it to the back of her mind and focusing on the controls of her Raptor.

"First scan complete we have four gas giants, one asteroid field, one big lump of rock and two small balls of ice, no Battlestar." Lt. Junior Grade Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson, Sharon's ECO had been shocked and exited by their mission brief, to investigate rumors of Colonial Defense Force survivors in the system.

"Where has the Old Man been, to hear rumors of other survivors, I haven't heard any that's for sure." Racetrack called up to the cockpit hoping to start a conversation with Boomer who had been quite and moody the whole mission.

"We'll jump further in-system for the second scan." Boomer decided ignoring the other women.

Margaret sighed and began running coordinates through the navigation computer programming for a Jump that would put the Raptor between the airless rock planet and the asteroid field.

Sharon started the pre-jump checklist keeping her eyes locked on her control panel and not thinking about anything else. Suddenly red warning lights flashed in her Heads up Display and Racetrack was screaming.

"Active Scanning! we've been target locked, get us out of here!" Racetrack desperately powered up the Electronic Counter Measures board, but whoever it was had them dead to rights, the scan had too good a look at the unprepared Raptor and she couldn't break the lock.

Boomer slammed the cruising ship to full power and ignited the after burners throwing the Raptor into a wild series of turns.

"FTL event, Lords it's right on top of us." Racetrack called from behind her. Sharon was too busy to answer the brilliant white flash of a Jump lit up the cockpit and the Raptor pilot threw her whole weight onto the control stick and slammed her feet on the pedals. Her Raptor shuddered as the maneuvering thrusters burst into life flipping the ship end to end facing away from the larger warship bristling with guns that had appeared infront of it.

"Raptor power down, you are locked up tight. If we detect any attempt to jump we will fire on you. Repeat power down, this is the CDF Frigate Calypso you were surposed to be expecting us." The Communication panel came to life filling the cockpit and EC compartment with an unfamiliar voice with a distinctive Libran accent.

Lt. Edmondson was completely focused on her ECM board trying to break the target lock, it took her a second to realize that the Raptor was no longer maneuvering and engines formally screaming at full thrust were powering down.

"Boomer what are you doing! We have to get out of here." Turning to her pilot she saw Sharon was turning off the ships systems one by one.

"Calm down Racetrack this is it what the Commander sent us here for, he knew they were here and they knew we were coming looks like we were the only ones who didn't know what was going on." Sharon, having gotten over her shock, finished shutting down leaving only the COM's with power.

"Roger Calypso powered down waiting for further instructions." Sharon was getting exited more survivors, they were real. She hadn't known what too expect when she got this mission but to actually see another CDF ship, it seemed like a dream come true. The dark fog that had been pressing into her mind with thoughts of death withered and Boomer shuddered as she realized it was exited too. I am going mad the pilot thought.

"This is Captain Carter of the Calypso, Standby to maneuver and land, we are picking you up." Boomer brought the maneuvering thrusters back online and turned the Raptor around, to face the Calypso. Racetrack came up from the ECM compartment and slipped into the co-pilots chair. They both watched as the Calypso rapidly closed the distance between them.

At first glance the Calypso looked nothing like its civilian counterpart Colonial One, covered in thick armor with two large military engine pods replacing the four splayed fins of a commercial drive. It wasn't until you looked past these features, that you saw the resemblance, the high forward mounted conning tower holding the bridge and the shape of the hull.

The larger ship came charging up to the Raptor, seemingly about to collide it slowed down and turned slightly. Presenting the starboard shuttle bay the armored doors just finished retracting as they were swallowed.

Boomer quickly set the Raptor down on one of the yellow lift heads and turned to look at Racetrack.

Margaret was slowly getting her bearings when that target lock had caught them, trying to get away had pushed everything else out of her mind but now they were landing on a CDF ship that wasn't the Galactica, others had survived the Holocaust. The spark of hope she had felt at the beginning of the mission burned brightly and she found herself grinning.

The familiar shudder of the landing deck lift shook the Raptor, as they sank into the shuttle bay deck. The top of the Raptor dropped below the surface and the armored airlock slid closed. Inside the Raptor the two Lieutenants could make out the hiss of air rushing into the lift shaft as it pressurized. Then the lift was dropping them into a well-lit hanger and they were looking at people wearing the same uniform as them, people that they hadn't known existed 10 minutes ago.

Boomer and Racetrack slowly climbed down their Raptors landing ramp to the cheers of the surrounding CDF ground crews. They both felt a bit intimidated, the Calypso was obviously a very new ship it was bright and clean with all the newest technology a stark contrast to the Galactica's 46 year old well worn looks.

Right infront of them six people were not cheering although they were smiling four marines in battle gear a marine officer and a CDF Captain.

"Lieutenants first off we have to make sure you are not Cylon's please turn, lace your fingers together behind you heads and drop to your knees this will only take a second." The marine officer spoke, the guards were not pointing there guns at the two Galactica crew members but the threat was obvious, sharing another glance Boomer and Racetrack did as they were told.

Sharon's mind raced. This was it, they would find out she was a Cylon and shoot her down, then it would finally all be over. Or maybe she would find out she was crazy after all. Something cold was pressed against the back of her neck and she heard Margaret gasp, A loud click and a sharp pain right between her eyes, she barely stopped herself from shouting out. The dark fog that had haunted her for weeks was gone!

"Clear!" The marine officer called out and the two Galactica Lieutenants cautiously climbed back to there feet.

Margaret turned to face the Calypso's Captain amazed that that was all it took to tell if someone was a Cylon and a little pissed at being suspected, but she knew that they had to be sure. Boomer seemed stunned so Racetrack took a step forward and saluted

"Sir Lieutenant Edmondson Electronics Officer from the Galactica." As she said this she could feel her grin try to brake out again but managed to stay straight-faced.

"Sir Lieutenant Valerii Raptor Pilot from the Galactica." Sharon managed to shake off her shock and saluted as well.

Greenbean Carter, Captain of the CDF Frigate Calypso returned their salutes with a mental sigh of relief. When the Raptor had run like that he had thought the whole mission was going to Hades

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'am Captain Carter, this is my ship the Calypso you two follow me to my briefing room, we have some talking to do." Boomer and Racetrack saluted again and walked out the hanger after the Captain. As they went down the corridor they could hear POs screaming for people to get back to work.

Racetrack noticed something odd, as they walked through the ship. It struck her how young they all looked. Apart from the Captain and a few Petty Officers she hadn't seen anyone she would place over twenty years old and quite a few that she guessed were well under that. It was a ship of children.

_Command Ship Hades, Nike System._

John Crichton clattered down the ramp and onto the steel deck of the Hades. The huge upper hanger of the Baseship spread out around him. Crichton set off for command, returning the salutes hastily thrown at him by crew rushing to get the giant ship ready for FTL. The old Cylon ship was still being refitted for the Fleets use. Its designers had not planned on having any number of humans on board and all through it had started out with some minimal life support, there had been no ware near enough for the nearly 30 000 people now living here. The plumbing alone for that many, meant miles of pipes had to be laid to get water where it was needed and waste away from where it was no longer wanted. While living spaces were built an equal effort went into retooling the ships factories.

The Hades was more of a city than a war ship the hangers, weapons, huge engines and control center. These were all secondary built around the four massive factory warehouse complexes, designed to supply a fleet of Exterminator class Baseship's. The 20,000 civilians had made there home in one of the two upper saucer section warehouses with room to spare, while the other warehouse was being converted into a hydroponics farm. The two in the lower saucer section were still stuffed to the gills with Cylon machinery, which was slowly being fed into the reworked factories. The first factory that Crichton and the Colonials had retooled was devoted to turning captured Centurions, Raiders, Planetary assault Shuttles and the Hunter-Killer corvettes back into ingots of metal and vats of plastic. From there the raw materials went on to become the new Vipers, weapon systems, sensors, Defense Screens and a hundred other projects. Some like the new Vipers were near to completing the first prototypes others like the Hetch drive were months away from showing any result.

Crichton completed the ten-minute jog to the elevators. That was another thing they were working on, that seemed to get bumped further down the to-do list by more important projects. It was a nightmare to get around on this tub; Cylons with their multi-tasking were not big on things like travel tubes and elevators. Which were standard issue on Colonial ships, after all why would one particular Centurion need to get to a certain part of the ship when the Centurions there already knew how to do the job.

The Hades was slowly becoming a human vessel. Human touches were growing out from spots like, Command that sat in the middle of the lower saucer section around which the 7,300 strong crew had their quarters and the other major area's of human use like the civilian town, the larger factories and the farm warehouse. These areas were all being rebuilt so that in some places it would be hard to tell that you were not on a Colonial ship.

John didn't have to wait long for an elevator, even with everyone using them they were efficient as all hell. When then Cylons did decide they needed to get from A to B they didn't let little things like terrifying speeds get in their way. By the time the Colonials had had the recourses to change it, they were already used to the dizzying speed of the lifts. Or so everyone said they still made John feel ill. With a sudden heaviness, as the anti-grav and inertial dampers made sure Crichton didn't become a stain on the roof, the car arrived at Command level and the doors slid smoothly open.

Out side the doors to the lift, was a small armored compartment closed off from the rest of Command where two Marines stood guard with their P90 machine guns, it always jarred Crichton thought, the mix of technologies the Colonial's had, as the two Marines sprang to attention and saluted. Here a people that had an FTL drive better than the Peacekeepers, gravity control as good as anybody's in the UTs and 50 years ago they had Artificial Intelligence and robotics good enough to event Cylons and they were running around with chemical powered kinetic weapons. He wished he could study some other old Kobolian tech, Crichton wondered what else they'd had back then.

John strode onto the Command deck trying to project the cocky, never fear Crichton's here, attitude that the kids that made up his Fleet expected of him.

"Commander on Deck!" the shout went out as soon as he was sighted and people started saluting.

"At ease, everyone back to work." Crichton said, looking around for his second in command, spotting Colonel Torins heading towards him from the Dradis area Crichton moved to meet her.

"Sir!" Colonel Paula Torins probably the universes senior officer of the Colonial Marine Core and XO of the largest human warship was a stickler for protocol, at least on the small stuff, and it always got her aristocratic nose out of joint, if Crichton tried to casual things down.

"Colonel, Report." Crichton said.

"Commander operation Bug-Out is proceeding on schedule, the Colonial Movers are just about to start docking with Nike Anchorage and the crew on board are already salvaging the parts. Crews from the Hades and Medusa are on their way to join them. The Hospital Ship the Botanical Explorer and the other critical civilian ships have just started jumping out. By Commander Sun's orders we have switched destination to the rendezvous point with Galactica's forces." Colonel Torins was a tall thin woman 45 years old. Classic oriental features

"Right get a nuke over there Paula. Even if the toasters give us the time we need to strip the Anchorage bare, there still might be something left that would give them Idea's we don't won't them having." Its was only in the last few weeks that the center of operations had moved from the Anchorage to the Hades, which included all of Crichton and his teams design work.

"Then join me in my office." Crichton finished. Colonel Torins gave a brisk nod and strode off.

Crichton hurried over to the Communication desk. Jarin one of the Xarai was manning a new station. A system added only six days ago.

"Chief get me a vid link to Medusa. I wan't to speak to Commander Sun and Major Dies. Have it piped through to my office" Crichton was pretty sure that Jarin had been a Tech specialist before he had been messed around with by Kaarvok the man had helped a lot, in converting Leviathan holographic technology and integrating it into the Colonial communication equipment.

"Aye Sir." Like most of the Xarai, Chief Petty Officer Jarin had only confused memories of his life before Cauldron. He had slipped easily into the CDF and his skills with communication equipment had caught Commander Crichton's attention. He was put in charge of the holographic display project after he, Crichton and a team of other Xarai Techs and Colonial scientists had finished the basic design. It had seemed low priority to Jarin but Commander Crichton said if he was going to be the Captain of a Starship then he was going to have a big view screen to enjoy the scenery. Jarin was pretty sure he was joking.

Colonel Torins stepped into Crichton's office. John was at his desk talking to someone on the vid terminal. His feet up on the desk corner leaning back causally in his chair, hands crossed behind his head. When her saw Paula hesitating at the door, not wanting to disturb his conversation, he threw her a grin and lazily waved her over. While Paula had gotten John to except the need for strict protocol infront of the lower ranks she had given up trying to get him to act with the dignity befitting his rank, on his own turf as he called it.

Paula Torins had been amazed when she met the two of them. She couldn't even in her own thoughts break up the team. Commander John Crichton and Commander Aeryn Sun. She a Marine and a Colonel on her second twenty-year hitch had been at a total loss. On the day the worlds ended. Listening to the Fleet be destroyed, reports of City's being nuked millions dying every minute. Crazy ideas of guerilla warfare or attacking the Baseship's in Camp Sparta's squadron of Marine drop-ships had been as far as she had planned when two troop carriers had dropped out of the sky landing right on the parade grounds with orders from Commander Crichton.

It was that, that had got her thinking again organizing the liberation of the Botanical Explorer had been the next logical tactical step, once the strategic plan, evacuating everybody they could from the occupied Colonial solar systems. Had been made clear. Looking back over it, a week later,detemining at what time the orders had to have been given to get those troop carriers to her when they did. She had realized that Critchon had already been planning for the escape of the human race minutes after the first Battlestar had died.

Of course it wasn't as clever as she had first thought. While she and her comrades in the CDF and CMC had been denying what they saw and heard, because it meant the end of everything they knew. John Crichton and Aeryn Sun had been dealing with the facts and forming plans. But then as she found out it wasn't their worlds that were about to end. But now after knowing them for the last three months and working with John almost every day Paula had come to the conclusion that if it had been, they would have re-acted the exactly the same way, it was just what they did.

Paula walked around the other side of the desk to see whom he was talking to. Confirming her guess, there weren't that many of the vid terminals set up yet.

"Commander Sun, Hal." Colonel Torins greeted the Commander of the Battlestar Medusa and her XO.

"Paula." Aeryn smiled at her while Major Hal Dies nodded.

"Right we're all here, you guys have had more time to think about it, how does this affect operation Bo-Peep." Crichton took his feet of the desk giving his First Officer room to move fully into the vid terminals range.

"I think we will need to speed it up John, If the Cylons find out about the intercept capability that the Hades gives us they might guess that we would try to hook up with other refugee groups." Aeryn said straight away

"And then they would increase their attempts to destroy the other groups." Hal Dies finished for his CO.

"But we don't know how infiltrated the other refugee groups are, we have already initiated contact with the Galactica group and the Civy Council is getting nervous they sent a petition moaning about our jeopardizing the future of human kind." Paula Torins was trying to speak for the side of caution.

"What do they want us to do?" Hal asked

"Its just a long ramble about the sacred trust and life being to precious to gamble with, but a little rat told me that Meci had them voting on a motion to offer shelter to President Roslin and the Galactica and sever ties with the quote Cylon infected ships. Before Marshal Perseus talked them down." Paula answered.

The four Officers exchanged disgusted looks. They had all had to deal with the Civilian Concil at on point or another. Crichton had to wonder about people that with everybody working two jobs would take time out to set up a bureaucracy. Aeryn muttered something about Rigel without the charm or good looks.

"There are three main dangers from infiltration the main one discovery is out of the bag. If we assume the Runners are caught and interrogated by the Cylons." Crichton quickly held up a hand before anyone could answer him "Which we have got to do. Bug-Out was the only option." He finished in a rush.

"Right but that still leaves us with sabotage and espionage." Paula put in

"Which are both too costly to tolerate we barely have any redundancy at all and can't, even from a strategic stand point, risk the Cylons blowing stuff up. And if we ever hope to add that redundancy to our assets we can not let the tin heads get their claws on the new systems and upgrades." Aeryn stated

"But at the same time, now that they know we exist the time until we will be fighting Cylons is drastically shortened and no longer under our control. We have to plan for them to find us next week and the week after that. So we need back up and only place we are going to get it in time, is the refugee groups. We will just have to deal with the human copies." Crichton settled back in his chair, unless something knew was thrown into the discussion he and Aeryn had reached a decision.

There was a knock on the cabins hatch

"Enter." Crichton stomach twisted this wasn't going to be good.

"Sir the Com center just sent word the signal intercepts from the Cylons they have changed the codes." Chief Jarin stepped into the office.

"Well that's it then they know something." Crichton looked around at his command staff. They all looked a bit grim, but Aeryn wasn't the only one whose eye had lit up with the prospect of a fight.

"Aeryn the Medusa is on detached duty. You are to implement Operation Bo-Peep, leave the Helios with me, you take the Frigates its more their kind of gig. Paula send one of our wings of Raptors over to the Medusa they will need all the scouts they can get." Paula nodded then moved out of the room ushering the Chief Petty Officer ahead of her.

On the screen John saw Hal also leaving in seconds he was as alone with Aeryn as he was likely to get for the next few weeks.

"So how are you doing Sun Shine." Crichton said with a smile, one that was only slightly forced, they had had to work apart from each other a lot, over the last three months keeping the Fleet running.

"I am good John, remember I was bred for this, its you I worry about." Aeryn could quite clearly see John, as she had first seen him naïve optimistic to a fault and nearly incapable of taking care of himself in the big bad universe.

John smiled a little wider realizing what Aeryn was thinking about.

"Hey even back then, I saved all our buts more often than not." Crichton said waggling his eyebrows so the radiant Aeryn Sun would know which butt he was talking about.

"Agreed but it was usually you who got us into trouble in the first place." Aeryn let a rare grin cross her face but then turned serious.

"John, how are D'Argo, Chiana, Rovhu and his Pilot." The former Peacekeeper didn't make friends easily, even now and she missed the Luxan and the Nebari girl and although she had not bonded to this Pilot like she had to the one she knew on Moya she had a soft spot for Leviathans.

"They are good, another of the Xarai died though I think it was that guy from Kaarvok's Lab you know the one with..." Crichton made a vague gesture over his face and Aeryn grimaced she did know having found the body.

"Big D and Pip are both still healing, most of the Goo seems to have been absorbed. Pilot thinks Rovhu will be ready to try his wings in two weeks and that looks like a pretty good estimate for D'Argo and Chiana as well." Crichton answered.

Aeryn felt a tiny part of the worry for her friends ease She wouldn't realy feel better about it until she had them both alive and well infront of her."

"John."Aeryn started to say.

"Dradis Contact." Crichton could hear the shout from outside his own office and echoing through from Aeryn's side of the vid terminal.

"Well back to work, love ya babe." Crichton shouted as he ran from the cabin, Aeryn had already been moving.

_Xiphos Rendezvous System_

"Dradis Contact!"

Before the shout was finished Captain Carter was heading out of the Briefing room Boomer and Racetrack followed him onto the bridge.

"Sir we are getting the Fleet IDF, looks like the Hyperion and several of the Civilian ships" The Ops Lieutenant was reporting as they caught up with him. Again Racetrack was struck with how young the crew of this ship was.

"Get me whoever is in charge over there." Carter ordered.

"Aye Sir!" Communication Specialist James Piro answered.

"Sir Lieutenant Gentry from the Hyperion." Specialist Piro reported

"Captain Carter this is Lieutenant Genry, Commander Air Group on the Hyperion I am to be stationed covering this system as we move here for operation Bug-Out." The Lieutenants voice came over the COM's both Boomer and Racetrack frowned as they tried to place the accent and couldn't.

"I see." Carter thought furiously if operation Bug-Out was in effect the entire Fleet would be here in less than 24 hours.

"Did you bring any new orders for Xiphos. Lieutenant Genry." Operation Bug-Out could mean scrapping for the mission to meet up with Galactica. 

"Just verbal for you to carry on Sir." Lieutenant Genry signed off.

"Operations do we have the Coordinates the Lieutenants supplied." Captain Carter turned to his Ops Officer.

"Yes Sir we were plotting it before the others arrived." The Ops Lieutenant reported.

"Sir May I speak with you in private." Everyone in the small Command Center turned to look at Sharon in surprise. Boomer kept her eye's on Captain Carter refusing to look at Racetrack.

Captain Carter looked at the Lieutenant from the Galactica he couldn't remember seeing anybody so grimly determined.

"Alright Lieutenant come back to my briefing room with me." Carter said

Boomer nodded once and followed the Xiphos CO.

Once the were back in the briefing room Carter turned to find that Lieutenant Valerii had removed her gun belt and was laying on the desk.

"What's this all about Lieutenant." Carter was getting curious and more than a little alarmed what ever was going on the Lieutenant was taking it deadly serious.

"Sir when your officer did your Cylon check I felt something." Boomer had to stop before she started crying she grabbed a hold of herself and concentrated on what she had to do.

"Lieutenant most people feel a small shock when tested. I did." Greenbean breathed a sigh of relief It was all some kind of mistake but Sharon was shaking her head.

"No Sir I felt something go away something died when I felt that shock, for weeks now I have been feeling something in my mind. Pushing me always pushing me I would wake up out of my bunk and know I had been trying to do something wrong. I thought I was going crazy but then your test and I felt this black thing in my mind die." Sharon was leaning into the wall with her arms crossed hugging herself as if to get warm.

This was not something covered in Officer Candidate School but it seems he was the one to deal with it.

"You know what your implying Lieutenant." Gods he hoped she was crazy.

"Yes Sir after the Holocaust we were Jumping although the Civilian shipping lanes looking for survivors. I think." Sharon took a shuddering breath" I think they must have captured me and done something. Put something in my head. Sir on the Galactica you don't know what its been like. These last three months we have been through hell together. I can't go to the Old Man and tell him I've had a demon in my mind plotting against everyone. I request you transfer me to the brig on the Hyperion Sir." Sharon finished. It was done now.

A/N Sorry lots of setting up this Chap bit more action to come.


	5. Chapter 5

Battlestar Farscape 

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 5

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

"Set condition one throughout the ship." Major Dies voice rang through the Columbia class Battlestar's halls.

Aeryn stood on the observation deck overlooking CIC her people were tense. All through the ship people ran to battle stations.

"What have you got Lieutenant Tlarnc." Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Junior Grade Tlarnc stood next to Lt. Koine Perry at the Dradis Board.

"Sir long range scanners have picked up an FTL event it's too far out to get any clear reading, its large though." The Xarai Tactical officer reported.

"The Warbook can only give it 32 percent probability as a Cylon Basestar we will need a closer scan to get a better idea." Lieutenant Perry the Operations officers added.

"Would we have detected anything with standard scan." Aeryn asked.

"No Sir, its well out of conventional Colonial Dradis range." Lieutenant Perry reported.

"Sir, I have Hades Actual on line." Petty Officer Second Mycen from communications.

"John, you're on Speaker" Aeryn pointed at the communications Officer silently commanding him the let everyone hear Crichton's reply.

"I've ordered the Salvage teams to drop what they doing and run for it. They will have cleared the Anchorage in 25 to 30 minutes last one out will set a nuke on 5 minute delay in 40 minutes I wan't this system clear of all Fleet personnel. The Hades will be Jumping in 4 minutes good luck Medusa." Crichton sounded confident for the troops but Aeryn heard the worry in his voice.

"Sir the Civilian ships are jumping and the Helios has left formation and is headed for the Hades." Tactical Officer Tlarnc said watching the Dradis board.

"Yes, the Frigates will be acting as our escorts for now. Hal get with Tactical and start plotting a Jump out there with the new contact. This is a scout, they send a Basestar into the outer system, and then they will dispatch Scimitars to check us out. I would rather go out to meet them." Aeryn walked down into the control pit and looked at the Dradis board, her eyes lingering on the largest contact, the Hades for a second then she turned her attention to the blurry figure right on the edge of the screen.

"Recall all ships except those working on the Anchorage they are to head for Bug-Out, we will meet up with them later. When you have FTL coordinates that will put us in the vicinity of the suspected Basestar rely them to the Frigates." Commander Sun ordered.

"Status update, we have 8 bogies, they've just come into the long range scan, outer envelope Dradis is getting a solid look at them." Lieutenant Perry announced already running the new contacts through the Warbook identification software.

"95 percent match with Scimitar class Cylon Raiders." Koine Perry finished his report as the computer showed him the results.

"The Hades and the Helios have Jumped Sir." Lt. Tlarnc reported.

"All Vipers back onboard Sir." Major Dies.

"Which Squadron was on Cap." Aeryn asked.

"Platinum Sir." Major Dies.

"Rotate them to reserve." Aeryn ordered.

"Yes Sir." Lt. Perry

"If we stay here to cover the Colonial Movers as they evacuate the Anchorage. The probe force will catch us before we can leave, and once we have taken them out, that Basestar will Jump in on top of us, maybe with two or three friends. They will have the initiative if we let it play out like that, so we are going out to meet them on our own terms." Aeryn paced thinking then started calling out orders.

"Operations designate the Scimitars priority target for Black squadron. Silver, Jade and Gold will stay with us as we go for the Basestar. The Frigates are to stay in formation until our Vipers engage, then they are to Jump to their outer assault range and target the Basestar from above and below. Once they start getting return fire they are to retreat out of the Cylons range. Once we have blooded the Basestar and Black squadron has destroyed the probe force, we will begin retreating, the Frigates can jump back to cover our landing Vipers, then land themselves and we jump out." It was a classic Peacekeeper maneuver, used to stall stronger Scarran forces, that Aeryn had reworked to suit the Colonial ships abilities. Her crews had wargamed it many times in the last three months; the young pilots did not have the experience for a long drawn out battle. But in a set piece affair like she was planning Aeryn thought they would do well, they could certainly fly.

_Pilots Briefing Hall, Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

Captain Susan "Char" Usen, Commander Air Group for the Battlestar Medusa finished going over the notes the XO had handed her minutes ago. The operation was a feint and withdraw with Frigate support and one squadron diverted to neutralize a priority target. They had wargamed this exact scenario nine days ago. Only this time, it was for real they wouldn't be practicing with the Hades, with its Vipers playing the part of Cylon Raiders they would be flying against the real thing and dog fighting the new enemy Scimitars.

"Attention people." Lieutenant Shane "Shark" Alex the commander of Black squadron and her 2IC, shouted out when he saw Susan step up to the podium.

"Okay people where on the clock here, straight after the briefing you're in your birds and Medusa is Jumping into the Fire. As soon as the FTL is complete we will crash launch. Silver, Jade and Gold squadrons will form up around the Medusa. Black squadron will peel off and hunt down eight Scimitars that are on stealth approach to the Anchorage. The rest of us will join the Medusa in a strike against a Basestar, once we are engaged the fighter cover. Frigates will move in to take some of the heat off. Then we hold until Black squadron has completed its mission, at that time we withdraw, again with support from the Frigates." Susan looked out over her pilots they all recognized the scenario and most looked confident, too confident Susan thought. Few had been in what was commonly called combat. Some Xarai Pilots that came with the Commander, others that the Fleet rescued with their drifting Vipers as they fled the colonies. But most had only simulator time and a lot of training by the Commander in last three months; added to whatever level they had reached at the academy.

"Questions." Captain Usen asked.

"What are we carrying." Lieutenant Tru "Hi Ball" Mainz the Squadron leader of Jade.

"Anti-fighter loud out. We will let the commander worry about carving her initials into the Basestar's hull." Captain Usen answered.

"Are the Frigates going to be in formation with us." Called out Andrew "Strife" Tropes one of Susan's regular wingmen.

"The Frigate Squadron will be following their own mission orders, they will be under our anti-fighter canopy for the beginning of the fight. After that they will do their own thing." Captain Usen answered.

No more questions were called out.

"Right people scramble." Captain Usen ordered.

The hall had large six exits, with just this sort of mass exodus in mind. 168 pilots making up the 4 squadrons poured out of the room. Outside travel cars took off as each was loaded, speeding down the tracks to the starboard and port pod, launch bays. Silver and Black squadrons Vipers were already prepped and in their launch tubes with Jade and Gold ready to be slotted into place by flight crews as soon as the first ships launched.

Susan climbed up the short steps, which was hastily pulled away, into the cockpit of her Viper, hitting the canopy release with her elbow as she settled her helmet on. As soon as she was set, she hit the final series of ignition keys and the fighter rumbled to life. The ground crew evacuated the launch tube airlock and Susan nodded to the launch coordinator in his sealed office. Amber strobes began flashing as the air was sucked out.

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Nike System_

Major Dies listened to reports coming through on his headset then raised his eyes to meet Aeryn's.

"Commander all Vipers are in pre launch positions, jamming is on full power, we have plotted an exit point between the scout force and the Basestar's suspected location."

"Very well, thank you Major, Lt. Koine you may begin the countdown."

"5"

Aeryn had been a Pilot, a Commando, and Officer of Icarion Company, Pleisar Regiment.

"4"

She had fought in over a dozen campaigns. Everything from fighting her way into a pirate den to fleet action against a Scarran Dreadnought.

"3"

Led her Patrol group of Prowlers in savage dogfights with Scarran, Scavenger Gunship's.

"2"

This should have been just another day at work for her.

"1"

Somehow it wasn't

"Jump!" Commander Aeryn Sun ordered her ship, the Battlestar Medusa into battle.

_Outer Reaches, Nike System_

The Columbia Class had been the workhorse of the Colonial fleets. Based on the design of the original Battlestar's like Galactica. It combined all the main features, the retractable landing pods; the saurian arrow shaped head, the bulging drive section and thick armor covered in cannons, missile batteries and point-defense guns. The Columbia's however were nearly half again the size of their older cousins and mounted three rather than two Mass Driver bow-guns with another smaller version between the drives as chase armament.

With a brilliant flash the Medusa appeared, Cylons reeled as local radio was disrupted by the Battlestar's powerful jamming equipment and learned with shock that there sub-space connection with their Fleet was gone, something they didn't even suspect the Colonials knew about. Racing at full flank speed, the Battlestar came about orientating its blunt prow on the Cylon Basestar, all the while exploding from the sides of the slowly extending landing pods the 84 Vipers of Silver and Black squadron. Silver Squadron formed first and took position above their mother ship while the Vipers of Black Squadron arced away heading for their targets. As the Gold and Jade squadrons began to launch a series of smaller flashes of intense white light heralded the arrival of the five Nautilus class Frigates. The small warships easily catching the Medusa and falling into formation.

For all her impressive size the Medusa was overshadowed by the bulk of the Cylon Basestar. Caught flat footed the star shaped Cylon carrier remained in place a second too long and Madusa's first barrage of three Mass Driver Kinetic shots slammed into it. The first to arrive ripped through one of the top spike like arms and continued on to bury itself into the thicker shoulder section of the arm behind it. The second disappeared into the hanger at the top of the central core. The third sliced along outside the core ripping a gapping wound along the hull of the ship.

The massive Basestar seemed to shudder, fire exploded out of the ruined hanger bay, throwing burning Raiders into space. Spinning trying to turn its damaged side away from the Battlestar, the Basestar slid to the side avoiding the next main gun shots from the Medusa. Scimitar Raiders began emerging from its other hangers.

The Battlestar charged after its evading foe, bringing it into range of Medusa's missile batteries. Fire rippled down the Battlestar's hull from bow to stern as the missiles launched. Twisting away from the Medusa they converged on the Basestar. The Cylons opened up with its own array of missiles and rail-guns trying to knock down the incoming waves of Colonial fire. The Basestar was still reeling from opening blows of the surprise attack and its point defense was uncoordinated of the five hundred missiles 21 lost target lock and flew off course due to the hastily erected EMC. 146 were knocked down by interceptor missiles or rail-gun rounds, then the rain of Medusas missiles fell.

323 missiles detonated across the hull of the Basestar ripping the weak armor apart and demolishing weapon emplacements. Another two hangers were damaged, not destroyed but putting them out of the immediate fight. The second and third waves were less and less affective even with the brutal damage it had received the redundancy of the larger Basestar meant that the Medusa was still outgunned. With the Cylon point defense and ECM solidifying only 30 missiles got through to impact, but the black ship just seemed to aborbed the hits.

With the missile barrage all but ineffective and the Basestar able to keep out of the firing ark of the MDK forward guns, The Cylon ship seemed to steel itself and rail-gun rounds and missiles started striking back at the Battlestar. To late the Medusa entered cannon range.

Coming hard about the Battlestar presented its Broadside to the Cylon Basestar. Racing around its slower enemy Medusa caught up with the slowly rotating damaged side already pounded by MKD rounds and missiles. The Battlestar's cannon crews aimed at the huge gash running across the side of the Basestar's core. 112 12inch cannon's fired across the distance between the two ships armor piecing rounds dove deep into the Basestar before exploding, pock marking the hull of the Cylon ship with craters some as large as a Raptor.

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Outer Reaches, Nike System_

CIC echoed with the continuous Boom of Cannon firing with the auto loaders supplying each of the 112 12inch's a fresh round every 12 seconds the Medusa was hitting the Basestar 560 times a minute the Cannons chewing into the core of the Cylon ship.

Commander Aeryn Sun watched her crew fight their ship they were doing well. But that was the problem her inexperienced crew was almost giddy with how the battle was going. The Cylons had hardly got a hit in on the Battlestar and the Medusa was doing horrendous damage almost at will.

"Get an update from Black squadron Specialist Owens." Aeryn ordered Communication's then turned to the Dradis.

"What are their fighter's doing Lt. Tlarnc." The Xarai officer had kept his eyes glued to his screen.

"Their still massing Sir count is now 438." Lt. Tlarnc reported.

"They will begin their Attack soon, the Basestar can't take much more of this." Major Dies realized he had not been a combat officer before the holocaust but 41 years of experience counted.

The deck shuddered everyone took a step to keep their balance Aeryn snagged Lt. Koine as he staggered past holding the Caprican up easily as he regained his balance.

"Damage report!" Hal Dies bellowed the outer ring of CIC where a dozen crewmembers monitored every part of the Medusa bristled as reports poured in. Hal cupped his hand over the earpiece of his headset, listening then relayed what he was hearing to his Commander.

"Direct hit on gun No.38, guns. 37 and 39 are not reporting, damage control teams on root, gun 19 reports their out of the fight with heavy casualties." Hal reported.

"Point defense rail-guns are down in sector P8." Lt. Koine Perry added getting repots on his own headset.

With the software updates from Rovhu and his Pilot. Medusa no longer relied on setting a Perimeter for point defense, basically throwing everything they had into space in the hopes of hitting incoming ordinance. Now Dradis was directly tied into the automated rail-guns and rather than firing in preset patterns worked out in advance, the quick fire cheap weapons locked on and targeted enemy fire until it was destroyed.

It wasn't perfect however and another battle raged bellow the surface, as EMC crews tried to spoof the incoming missiles with confusing signals and false images while the Cylons refined their target data.

"The Scimitars are moving in!" Lt. Tlarnc reported

"Black squadron reports mission accomplished." Specialist Owens reported.

"Task one of the Frigates with covering Sector P8 get "Char" to give it Viper support." Aeryn ordered. With a whole sector of point defense down the Scimitars would have too big a target to ignore.

"Switch missile targeting to anti-fighter." Aeryn paced restlessly itching to get out there and take them on fighter to fighter. With a deep breath she stilled herself and concentrated on trying to project an aura of calm. Looking down at the small computer generated data blocks that represented the combatants on the Dradis display she suddenly missed the view screen on Moya. And she had thought Crichton was just being Crichton insisting on it being one of the needed upgrades.

_C.A.G. Medusa Outer Reaches, Nike System_

Captain Usen acknowledged the orders from Medusa control, and delegated a flight from Silver squadron to cover the Frigate moving down the Battlestar side where its weapons could cover the ruined crater that had been gun bunker 38. Then she switched to all stations to address her whole Viper force.

"Here they come! The Cylons are making their move. Silver, Gold squadrons we are going out to meet them Jade stick close to the Medusa, lets go get them!" Char ignited her Vipers afterburners and accelerated out towards the charging Scimitars.

The 78 Vipers of the two Squadrons raced towards the 442 Raiders the Cylons had been able to launch. As the two groups closed with one another the Medusa's Vipers were over taken by their mother ships missile barrage. 500 hundred missiles streaked into the mass of raiders.

Rail-gun rounds poured into space as the Cylons blasted away at the wall of destruction heading for them, ECM flooded the electronic environment, decoys were deployed. The Scimitars formation broke as they twisted and turned trying to evade.320 missiles lost lock 76 were able to re-acquire a target in the confused mess of evading raiders 122 turned away and destroyed decoys. 49 were shot out of space. 19 wasted themselves on double strikes. For the opening anti-Fighter barrage 56 Raiders were wiped out. The second wave of medusa's missiles arrived this time joined by 156 launched from the Vipers.

When the Vipers reached the Scimitars the Cylons formations were in tatters and their numbers cut down to 243, still out numbering Medusa's Squadrons by more than two to one.

Char plunged straight into the furball scoring a kill right away as a Raider turned into her sites. Jinking and turning her Viper she pulled up behind another Scimitar and fought to line up a shot at the evading Cylon.

"I've got one!"

"Me too."

"Ha! splash another one."

"Take that you Frakkers!"

The exited chatter filled her COM's.

"Quite, do your jobs watch your sixes and cover your wingmen." "Char" angled in from above and sent a burst of AC rounds into one of her targets wings the Scimitar flipped into roll, out from under her sites, seemed to recover for a second, before coming apart in a splash of fire.

Looking around, she tried to get some idea of the battle, space was filled with explosions and weaving fighters. The Dradis screen tried to keep up with its target rich environment. Constantly updating as it grappled with thousands of contacts. Fighters, missiles, Colonial auto cannon bullets, Cylon rail-gun rounds and debris from destroyed ships.

A flicker in the corner of her eye and "Char" wrenched her joystick back spinning her Viper away from fire coming at her from behind. Working the pedals Susan flipped her Viper end to end to confront the Scimitar targeting her.

_C.I.C Battlestar Medusa, Outer Reaches, Nike System_

The Medusa shook again as she took another hit this one smashing down on the Battlestar's armored head not penetrating her thick armor but destroying more of her missile batteries.

Aeryn ignored the calls and orders around her as she watched the Dradis display. The main dogfight between Vipers and Scimitars had drifted away from the two capital ships as the fighters maneuvered against one another. Black squadron was closing with their position. A smaller battle was going on right outside Medusa's hull as Jade squadron and the single Frigate engaged those Cylons that had broken through to reach the Battlestar. The other Frigates had pulled back after jumping into position and firing at the Basestar for over a minute peppering its uncovered upper and lower quadrants with their own missiles and the large ship to ship rail-guns which were there main weapons. The Basestar had taken horrific damage two of the blade like arms had been blown off fires raged all over the mile long ship and the Colonials had destroyed over half its guns and wrecked all its hangers, the battle reached its 17th minute.

"Radiological Alarm, We are detecting a radiation source coming from in system." Aeryn head snapped up that was the signal the Anchorage was gone. The Fleet had abandoned the Nike system.

"Orders to all Vipers, they are to clear any remaining missiles and head back to the barn, signal the Frigates to move in to cover." Even she had started to hope they could achieve a clean victory. But it wasn't going to happen.

With the amount of damage they were doing to the Cylon mother ship it had looked like they could finish off the Basestar. Then Medusa could combine forces with her Vipers and together make short work of the 100 or so Scimitars left. But the Basestar wasn't dying, it was crippled and Aeryn doubted the Cylons would even try to salvage the ruined ship, but it was still fighting. Medusa weapons just couldn't dig deep enough to get to its vitals. The battle was taking too long. Even with the jamming, stopping the Cylons calling for help there were too many FTL capable Raiders for Aeryn to believe help wouldn't' arrive soon.

Aeryn watched as the number of Scimitars dropped by another 20 as the Vipers used the last of their missiles and Black squadron swept in for a coordinated strike then the whole mass of Vipers turned and raced for the Medusa. As the Vipers presented their tale pipes to the Cylons, the confirmed count of Colonial fighters in that sector dropped from 98 to 95.

_C.A.G. Medusa Outer Reaches, Nike System_

"Char's" Mk VII slipped under the bulk of the Nautilus covering her, aiming at the gapping bay of the landing pod. She slammed on the maneuvering thrusters and fishtailed her Viper trying to bleed off momentum, as she came in fast for a Combat Landing. All around her other Vipers were dropping to the deck in a mad scramble to get down safe, there were minor collisions amongst the fighters as the Frigates started to slowly back into the Hanger still firing their forward guns, as the pods started to retract.

_Outer Reaches, Nike System_

The Battlestar turned away from its foe, as its flight pods finished sliding up tight to the main body. Still trading shots with the crippled Basestar and swatting the Scimitars that buzzed around it like irritating fly's the Medusa accelerated then with a burst of brilliant white light, it Jumped.

The Battlestar Medusa Full Crew compliment Before Battle 4230 After Battle 4126

Combat Positions

Viper Squadrons

Silver Squadron 6. Flights of 7. Vipers 42 A.B. 38

Black Squadron 6. Flights of 7. Vipers 42 A.B. 41

Jade Squadron 6. Flights of 7. Vipers 42 A.B. 35

Gold Squadron 6. Flights of 7. Vipers 42 A.B. 31

Platinum Squadron 6. Flights of 7. Vipers 42 A.B. 42

Raptor Squadrons

Eyes Squadron 2 Flights of 5. Raptors 10 A.B. 10

Eagle Squadron 2 Flights of 5. Raptors 10 A.B. 10

(Seconded from the Hades)

Blue Hound Squadron 2 Flights of 5. Raptors 10 A.B. 10

Gun Crews

12Inch Port Broadside, 112. Bunker Crews of 4. Gunners 448 A.B. 448

12Inch Starboard Broadside, 112. Bunker Crews of 4. Gunners 448 A.B. 409

22inch Turrets, 8. Bunker Crews of 9. Gunners 72. A.B. 72

Damage Control Teams

32 Teams of 13. crewmen 416 A.B. 414

A/N well the first real Battle scene.Didn't come out quite like I wanted. Hope you like it.


	6. Chapter 6

Battlestar Farscape 

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 6

_Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

"Doesn't this seam a bit off to you Lee?" Kara asked flexing her right leg, testing her injured knee.

Captain Lee Adama watched her for a second frowning.

"If you keep Frakking with it, you'll never get back into the cockpit." Lee remarked.

'Starbuck' sneered at him, crossed her arms and lent back against the corridor wall. She did however stop straining her healing knee.

"Gee thanks Captain Adama what would I ever do without you, and you didn't answer my question he's a Priest for the sake of the Gods." That was the part that was getting to her, although respect for a person because of their job description, went against the grain. Years of upbringing counted.

The two Pilots were standing outside Commander Adama's quarters, in officers country, waiting for a signal from the Marine keeping their target under observation.

Commander Adama had ordered as many people as possible be checked with the Ragnar Effect device. So they were working their way down the crew list in order of rank.

"I didn't even know he was a Captain, and no Kara sneaking up on the man and stabbing him with the thing, isn't the most above board thing we have ever done. But unless you have a better idea, thats the plan." Lee wasn't very comfortable with their new job either, but hid it better than the top gun Pilot.

Whatever Starbuck might have said was cut off when they both heard a double click from the small wireless Apollo had clipped to his belt.

Sharing a look the two set off, walking at a deliberate pace that would see them encounter Brother Cavil as he was coming from his office on his way to his quarters, in a narrow section of corridor.

Just as planned the Galactica's Priest was rounding the corner at one end of the corridor as Lee and Kara entered the other. Kara casually put her hands in the pockets of her flight jacket as they approached him, getting a grip on the R.E. device making sure it was the right way round. As they came up to him Lee courteously stopped letting Starbuck go first, then nodded to Brother Cavil, the Priest returned the gesture, his eyes on Apollo and Starbuck made her move, a lighting quick jab pressing the R.E. device into his side. The operation took seconds and came off like clockwork.

They weren't expecting the deafening bellow as the Priest arched his back to a seemingly impossible degree screaming in agony.

"What did you do!" Quicker than either of the stunned Viper Pilots could react he spun around to confront Kara, throwing Lee halfway down the hall in the process. As he was reaching for 'Starbuck' the man staggered and rather than grabbing her, he slammed into the Lieutenant sending her flying into the wall. Kara caught herself before she could slide down, even with her arm going numb where she'd struck the bulkhead, adrenaline had kicked in, and in no way did she want to be helpless on the deck with this sudden mad man stomping around.

The Priest took another step after the Viper Ace, but faltered, stumbling as if the deck had suddenly moved under him. Nearly falling, he caught himself on the bulkhead opposite Kara leaning heavily against the metal wall; Brother Cavil stared at her. Kara was shocked to see his face covered in sweat, with the veins running under the skin clearly visible, he was actually foaming at the mouth.

"What did you do." It was a pain filled moan this time. With a look of rage Brother Cavil lunged, hands reaching for her. Gunfire sounded from both ends of the corridor and he jerked violently, as bullets tore into his body.

"Holy Frak!" Kara said softly as the Cylon crumpled to the deck. Apollo and the Master at Arms ran up pistols covering the still figure.

"Well I guess the new detectors work." Sargent Hadrian said keeping the body covered until Starbuck could edge along the wall out of possible striking distance. She half expected him to leap up at them, his face was twisted with bulging veins and waxy skin, like a zombie from the cheap monster holodrama they used to show back on Caprica. Lee and Kara nodded numbly in agreement.

Dr. Gaius Balter stared at the scene infront of him; he had been jostled aside when the Marine ran past him. He had been about to give the women a piece of his mind; he was the vise-President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol after all, when she had drawn her gun. The scientist watched for a second longer as the three stood over the body, then quickly turned and walked away.

_Colonial One docked, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

Laura Roslin sat at her desk listening to Commander Adama's report; she sagged slightly in relief. Only then realizing she hadn't really believed Lieutenant Usen's story, hadn't allowed herself to hope.

Billy Keikeya, Wallace Gray and Tory Foster sat in the armchairs arranged around the office.

"Doctor Cottle has just started to do the autopsy, but he tells me the wounds are strange. What showed up as microscopic benign fatty tumors around the spine, in the body's of the Cylon agent calling itself Leoben Conoy. On this one, Captain Luten Cavil, they are massively swollen and several appear to have ruptured." Adama said.

"What about the first one, that was on Ragnar Anchorage it had been suffering from the affects. Did these tumors show up then." Laura asked.

"In the struggle he got knocked around, there was swelling but the cause was unclear madam President, if I remember the autopsy report there were numerous area's of bruising. On the one we found stowing away aboard the Gemenon Traveler their was no mention of them." Commander Adama had caused the bruises himself.

"Thank you Commander, please let me know of any further developments." Laura settled back looking at her aids and advisors as Adama signed off.

"Well we're still not one hundred percent, but the kids story just got a huge boost." Wallace put in his opinion.

"I think we can believe, or at lest act like we believe what Lieutenant Usen has told us. But what does that mean?" The President asked.

"It means were not alone, maybe we can reunite some family's, with another Battlestar and the other CDF ships they will have more medical and food supply's than us but not as many people so hopefully." Billy started to say.

"The civilian's, in this other fleet will think those supply's are theirs, how will they react to us redistributing them. Maybe they have had an election and there is some one over there, who thinks they are the President of the Twelve Colonies." Tory cut in.

"Well we have the Law behind us President Roslin was the next inline." Billy said loyally.

"44th inline Billy. I am sure if they have been running thing's for over three months, they will be able to overlook that little fact if they wan't to." Laura said.

"Well we have more people." Billy said and blushed when he realized how lame that was.

"Commander Adama will support us." Tory said throwing her junior college a look. As a newcomer to President Rosin's staff she tried not put anybody down, but Billy Keikeya was a total newbie to politics and sometimes she wished he would just keep quite, listen and learn like she had when she first started out.

"Will he? I am confident that William Adama will do what he thinks is best for the Fleet." Laura said.

"I think he will Laura, better the demon you know and all that, but that's not the real question." Wallace Gray put in, he had been thinking while he watched the others talk.

"I am a Demon now Wallace, thanks for the vote of confidence. Tell us then what is the real question?" Laura knew that Wallace Gray had a lot more experience in government than her, while she'd had a successful career in education before she entered politics Wallace had been doing this all his life. Sometimes she thought that was a good thing.

"Is Adama going to be in charge, does he outrank this Commander Crichton." Wallace said.

Laura Rosin was stunned. It had never occurred to her that William Adama wouldn't be in charge of the Galactica and any other CDF ships they ran into. She hadn't realized how much the man had impressed her. But now that she was thinking about it she realized how naive she had been. The Galactica was going to be turned into a museum and Adama retired, looking back on it. It smelled of politics, shuffling someone out of the way. She would think about that later.

She picked up her phone and waited for Colonial One's communications technician to pick up.

"Jane, put me through to the Galactica I would like to speak to Commander Adama."

_Command Ship Hades, Rendezvous /Bug Out System_

John Crichton was worried, not that he didn't think Aeryn could take care of herself, but it was a big bad universe out there and stuff happened, especially to them. As a great many beings knew, Crichton was even more annoying, when he was worried or angry or hungry. Having known John for sometime now, Colonel Paula Torins knew this as well as anybody, not to say she liked it or would put up with it if she had a choice.

"Commander you are disrupting the smooth running of my CIC." They were in Crichton's office where John had retreated to get some work done, after Paula had thrown him off the bridge. Unfortunately the rhythmic thump of the rubber ball against the thin dividing wall, was driving the command staff slowly insane.

Crichton caught the ball on the rebound and looked at the Hades XO. The tall thin Marine had done as much as anyone to hold the Fleet together and get it working. When they had first started out they had relied on her to organize the CDF as well as her own CMC. John and even Aeryn had warmed to the reserved women and Paula had soon learnt from Aeryn how to control what the ex-peacekeeper called his fahrbot moments.

"Its just really crappy timing Paula, another week and we would have had most of the upgrades in production and the Medusa would have walked right over the Cylon's we would already be well on our way to hooking up with Galactica. Now we'll scramble and make it up as we go along, again. I am going to have a talk to the management one of these days." Crichton knew he was whining but hey he had a Fleet of space battleships if he wanted to whine, then that's what he'd do.

"Sir, about that scrambling, we have a report from the Hyperion,. Captain Carter of the Xiphos wants to transfer a prisoner to them before he departs for the Galactica." Colonel Torins told him.

"What prisoner. Where'd he get a prisoner from, he's only been here a day." There was only one place Crichton could think of.

"A Lieutenant 'Junior Grade' Sharon Valerii of the Galactica." Paula said

"Charge." Crichton demanded.

"She apparently confessed to being a Cylon spy or being under Cylon influence. The wording is a bit confused and its all second hand from Hyperion, I think Captain Carter hopes to just offload her and get on with his mission." They both knew what a mess this could make of their relationship with the Galactica fleet.

"Was she checked with the R.E. grenade. That things are pretty conclusive if I remember." Crichton could still see the first time he had seen the thing used. It had been his idea to try it on one the self proclaimed next generation Cylons, Paula had captured on the Botanical Explorer.

"She was checked, she passed and then confessed." Paula answered

"Not the Hyperion have her sent to the Helios and have Carter stand by." John said thinking furiously.

Commander Crichton and Colonel Torins trooped out of his office, while Paula gave the order Crichton stood thinking absently juggling the ball one handed.

"Lieutenant Valerii is on her way to the Helios, Commander and the Xiphos is standing by."

"Tell Captain Siam that I will be aboard in 15mins and that the Helios will be accompanying the Xiphos to Galactica."

"Sir! You can't make first contact with them, they haven't cleared out the Cylons yet, the Galactica could be crawling with them, and who will be in charge here." Colonel Torins didn't know which she was more upset by. Crichton putting all his knowledge in reach of the Cylon's or being left in charge of the civilians

"Its too messed up, without our secure base as a point of reference we could lose contact with the Galactica fleet. All it would take would be a Cylon attack at the wrong time and we would never find them again. We need to get together and at the very lest swap some rendezvous coordinates, but rendezvousing and splitting up again would give the Cylons a chance to stumble onto us every time we did it. We are going to have to speed up the merging and that means I have to talk to them."

"Sir." Paula could see his point. Although she didn't see why her CO had to go himself, but knew his mind was made up.

_Main Hanger 2, Command Ship Hades_

Crichton walked up to the fighter, they had used the older Mark two Viper design, the currant Mark seven was just to compact and streamlined, every centimeter devoted to components which were not going into the Series Two. Besides John thought the MK II looked cooler.

The Series Two MK I Viper, Space Superiority Fighter was slightly longer than the original MKIIs 9 meters rather than 8.4082m.

Armed with two high-energy particle beam cannons. The three drives were Ion thruster integrating partial inertia gravity control making them more fuel efficient and faster. The control system was lifted straight from the Peacekeeper "Prowler" rebuilt to be as close a copy of the MK VII cockpit as possible with the Prowlers 10 percent "thinking cap" biofeedback system. It was not quite as fast as a Prowler but was more maneuverable. The energy system had to be completely reworked to power the improvements and now boasted a secondary tylium reactor. Crichton hadn't been able to cram a defense screen into the fighter but settled for what was dubbed a deflector array. Using a combination of gravity and electro- magnetic field generation this made the fighter harder to hitand harder to target. Unfortunately it was less affective against kinetic attacks than it would be against energy weapons. It mounted the standard Colonial missiles, there being no time to design anything else. and was lacking the planned Hetch drive.

The Series Two was three times as fast and used one-fifth the fuel. Once the Hetch drive was fitted Crichton was confident it could hold its own against any fighter fielded by any power in the Peacekeeper Sector and more to the point Aeryn agreed.

Every system on the new fighter was a combination of dozens of different technologies. Like the ships new guns, the only energy weapon design he'd had to work with was D'Argo's Qualta Blade. Peacekeeper pulse weapons the only other model he had, hadn't been an option. While they were easier to build, more energy efficient and weight for weight harder hitting, they were based around chaken oil that the Fleet had no access to, the Qualta Blade was a purely mechanical device. So Crichton and his team of Xarai and Colonial Scientists and Engineers had set out to design something based on the principles the Qualta Blade operated on.

The end result would have been unrecognizable by a Luxan weapon smith. First Crichton related it back to his basic understanding of the sciences taught on Earth. Then his experience with Leviathan biomechanics, interesting bit and pieces of information he had picked up here and there in the Uncharted Territory's. All this, seen through the partial understanding of worm whole physics. Influenced by the research he was currently doing into Colonial FTL and gravity generation.

Crichton climbed into the Viper and settled the Helmet on; there was a slight fuzzy feeling as the biofeedback system locked on. Then he started to work through the ignition sequence, the lift started down. This fighter was the first of its type but not the prototype of the Series Two; the Sundance was on its owners Battlestar. This Viper 001 was the first production model. The factory would be making nine a day once they hit their stride. With the second factory nearing completion.

_Holding Cell, Battlecruiser Helios _

Boomer sat in her cell wondering when they would get sick of having her around and finally put her out of her misery. She had only been here five minutes and already she was sick of it. There was a sudden bustle from down the corridor out of her line of sight and the Marine stationed across from her cell, keeping an eye on her. After looking down that way, he was snapping to attention and saluting.

Sharon climbed to her feet and pulled herself into an upright posture, she figured it was the Battlecruiser Captain come to see what had been dumped on his ship. So she was shocked to see the insignia's of a Commander on the collar of the brown haired officer who walked into view.

"Sir!" It was completely reflex, that had her snapping into a parade ground perfect salute, she had intended something much more feeble.

"At ease." With a glance he included both her and the Marine. Boomer broke position.

"Give me some time here, Corporal." The Commander turned his full attention to Sharon as the Marine moved out of sight down the corridor.

"I am John Crichton, Commander of the Hades how are you." Sharon noticed he had a strange drawled accent that she couldn't place.

"Not too good sir." Boomer said.

"So from what I can gather, you either think you are one of the human form Cylons or that the Cylons put a chip in your head that was trying to control you. That right Lieutenant 'Junior Grade' Sharon Valerii?" He walked up to the bars and leaned casually against them.

"Yes sir, I mean I think so sir." Sharon couldn't quite pick his attitude; he seemed sarcastic but more directed at himself than her.

"So what are you doing about it?" Crichton asked her.

"Sir what do you mean? What am I doing about it?" As far as she could see she wasn't about to do anything, about anything.

"I mean what's your plan, you have problems what are your solutions." Sharon's mind conjured up a vision of the pistol she had left on Captain Carter's desk.

"None of that now, suicide is avoiding not fixing."Crichton scolded. Boomer was getting even more freaked out than she had been at the beginning of the day, how in the name of the Gods had he known what she was thinking.

"Believe it or not, I know almost exactly what you're going through, remind me to tell you the story sometime." John answered the Raptor pilot's bewildered expression.

"OK so no suicide what's your next plan." Crichton kept pushing.

"I don't know! It's all finished, ruined." For the second time today Sharon found herself on the verge of tears, she was getting sick of that as well.

"Good Good." He was actually rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"What's good!" Superior officer or not this guy was starting to get on her nerves and she didn't have many left.

"Before you get answers, we have to work out what your problem's are, and we have now got the first one sorted. Your first problem is that you don't know what to do." He smiled crookedly at her.

"And what's the fix for that." Boomer stopped herself from adding sir she wasn't feeling in the mood.

"Well du! If you don't know what to do, you ask for help." With this statement John took a step back.

Sharon stared at him in amazement. They're was definitely something wrong with this man. She was about to go back to the cot and try ignoring him, maybe he would go away, when she realized she felt better than she had in weeks. She stared at him in shock, and Crichton raised one eyebrow questionably Boomer nearly smiled, but caught herself in time.

Boomer walked back to the cot and sat down, suddenly more tired than she could ever remember being, even during those hundreds of jumps right after the holocaust. She was exhausted, tired of being afraid, tired of not knowing, so sick and tired of being sick and tired.

"Help." Nearly a whisper

"First off. Sharon are you a Cylon. Do you really believe you were captured and they stuck a chip in you." John walked slowly back toward her and ended up at the cell door.

"I." Sharon couldn't think, "I think I am a Cylon Sir." Now the young pilot did start to cry.

Crichton looked at the women infront of him. It had sucked when he went through this himself; it didn't look like much fun from the outside either. And the R.E. grenade had already done all it could for her. It had been his cure with a little help from magic Goo but he didn't think it would be so easy for the Lieutenant.

"Well first we make sure. Here." Crichton took a small, about 20cm by 5cm, piece of metal out of his pocket and threw it gently onto the blankets beside her.

"That is a bit of bracing I picked up somewhere and I have been informed that maybe the top one percent of the strongest humans may on a good day be able to bend it, a little bit. Human form Cylon's are stronger than that. So you should be able to do something." Crichton explained

Sharon looked at it for a second and then away

"I am not super strong. I would have noticed."

"That was before when, if we go with the theory, you were being controlled or were the cover personality of a Cylon spy who would not want you going around pulling door handles off. It would attract attention. But its dead now, fried by the R.E. device so any restrictions it put on that body are gone too." Crichton waited and reluctantly Sharon picked it up.

Boomer looked down at the innocent piece of metal in her hands. Did she wan't to know, could she live with what she would find, her hands started to tremble and with a sudden burst of rage at her own weakness, she clenched her fists.

Crumpling the metal in the process.

_C.I.C. Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

"Time." Colonel Tigh ordered.

"Raptor One is now two hours forty three minutes overdue Sir." Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla answered.

William Adama stood on the observation deck overlooking C.I.C. he felt Tigh look at him and knew as everyone in command did that they couldn't wait here much longer, they were only one jump away from the last encounter with the Cylons the civilians would be getting nervous soon. He thought about the conversation he had earlier with President Roslin and then the ceremony she had arranged, it had felt wrong to him but he had gone through with it. Now it looked like it was wasted effort. He turned to Lt. Gaeta to order him to start the count down for a Jump.

"Dradis contact." Lieutenant Gaeta called out.

"Confirm!" The routine kicked in as he and Saul strode over to the Dradis board.

"Its confirmed Sir." Lieutenant Gaeta reported. Silence reined in the C.I.C.

"We are receiving an IFF signal, transceiver the Battlecruiser Helios." P.O. Dualla said quietly almost like prayer.

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A/N I will prob. Re-write the end of Ch5 when I get time.

Sick and Tired – Anastacia this song rocks.


	7. Chapter 7

Battlestar Farscape 

I do not own Farscape or New Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 7

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Ka D'Argo felt good, in fact he felt excellent, he didn't think he had ever been this full of energy and health. He stretched and looked around. He was on Moya in one of the halls; funny he couldn't remember how he got there. He started looking around.

"Chiana!" She had been standing right behind him, she was blue.

"Arhh!" A DRD zapped him, before he could reach her, suddenly there were DRD's all over the place, with they're weapons deployed. With a few more zaps for encouragement he backed away from Chiana's still blue form, noting another blue person this one Sebacean looking, although it wasn't John or Aeryn.

"Pilot what's wrong with Chiana, why won't the DRD's let me near her." D'Argo shouted only then realizing that he wasn't wearing a communicator badge. In fact he wasn't wearing much of anything his clothing was threadbare and falling apart and his Qualta Blade was missing. The Luxan was starting to think things were weirder than normal, the last thing he could remember clearly was he, John, Aeryn, Chiana and the Interion female Jool, they were in a transport pod returning to Moya from a commerce planet and then nothing. Now he was back on Moya, Chiana and some Sebacean he didn't know, had been turned into blue statues, he just knew John was at the bottom of this.

"Ka D'Argo" Pilots voice called from an open hatchway just down the corridor.

"Pilot, what's going on." With one last look at Chiana and the swarm of DRD's guarding her, he jogged into, what he now saw was the Den, Pilot at his console.

"Ka D'Argo what do you remember." Pilot asked

D'Argo frowned at the creature infront of him, he was obviously a Pilot but not D'Argo's shipmate from Moya, which meant something horrendous had happened or this was not Moya. That brought up a vague feeling of unease something about another Leviathan.

"What Leviathan is this." D'Argo growled, the Luxan was getting more and more disturbed and was seriously thinking about getting angry.

"This is the Leviathan Rovhu. Ka D'Argo please, Rovhu and I mean you no harm. Commander Crichton and Commander Sun both talked about you at great lengths. I believe it would be easiest if you informed us of the last thing you remember. Healing by the Builder Substance seems to cause biped lifeforms memory loss or it could be a side effect of your wound. In any case I will endeavor to bring you up to date on the current situation." The Pilot spoke soothingly.

"Commander Sun? Alright Pilot, last I remember was being on a Transport Pod with the others, heading back to Moya." What wound, Builders and memory loss. D'Argo groaned he wasn't going to like this.

"Ah! At some point on your trip the Pod began to lose power, you discovered Rovhu drifting near your route and landed on him for repairs there were, problems." Pilot hesitated over the last, as if not quite sure what word to use.

"What sort of problems, what is wrong with Chiana, and why are you speaking Luxan." D'Argo realized the Pilot was speaking his native language, somehow he had missed it at the beginning of the conversation.

"Rovhu was a Peacekeeper prison ship, something I am told you have experience with. The Scarrans attacked us and in the turmoil Kaarvok escaped, we avoided the Scarrans, but Kaarvok was free. He did things, terrible things to the crew, to Rovhu, to me. We were dying when you landed but Kaarvok was still here." D'Argo could see the Pilot struggle to keep calm.

"I am speaking Luxan because you no longer possess Translator Microbes the Builder Substance only healed you, anything not part of you was disposed of. Commander Sun especially wished you to note the slave rings." Pilot said.

D'Argo quickly had a look down his top and then with a roar of pure joy, ripped his tunic off. The Slave rings the hooks that had been grafted onto his collarbones and stayed with him as constant reminders of his shame, even after he escaped. The mark of his humiliation and captivity were gone!

"Your shipmate Chiana is healing as were you, until you awoke just microts ago. The Nebari are not as robust as Luxan's it is to be expected that she take longer to heal." Pilot explained.

"What happened to us, how were we wounded, how long have I been asleep." D'Argo was getting an idea of things now, apparently everyone was well.

"How long is difficult to determine, Commander Crichton has spent some time working with Rovhu and I and we have yet to produce a answer, however it has been over a cycle and a half." The Luxan warrior cut off Pilot.

"What! A Cycle and a half. What happened to Moya, where are we." D'Argo shouted.

"I am sorry to say that we have had no contact with Moya or any other Leviathan. Where we are is also problematic, the best estimate we can make put us several sectors galactic east of Tormented Space." Pilot answered calmly.

D'Argo was stunned Tormented Space had been the edge of explored space though out all of Luxors space going history. Although images could be seen of space beyond it, no ship had ever crossed troubled area to a more stable sector. Tormented Space just became more and more difficult to navigate as wormholes and strange radiation storms became more frequent.

"Beyond Tormented Space." D'Argo whispered.

"That is correct, several elements combined in a surprising way and Rovhu preformed a overpowered Starburst to this Artifact, the Cauldron. I was." The Pilot hesitated. "I was unconscious at the time and Rovhu, delirious with pain and the damage of his wounds, he all but crashed on the Cauldron and was soon unconscious as well." Pilot continued to explain.

"Where are John and Aeryn now, can you open communications to them Pilot." Too much information D'Argo wanted to talk to his friends.

"Unfortunately not. They are out of range at this time. They are with the refugee Fleet" Pilot answered.

"What refugee Fleet." D'Argo demanded.

Pilots answer was cut off by a woman's terrified scream, from outside the Den. D'Argo immediately ran out.

"Chiana!"

Chiana had woken feeling wonderful she had just started to look around when she remembered. The pain in her stomach, the strange Alien shooting her, then the other her, looking into her eyes, with fear and guilt as she backed away, the Alien stabbing something into her head, the incredible pain, all the while she, herself, the other Chiana watched and backed away.

"Chiana!" D'Argo was holding her, and she was screaming and screaming, she couldn't stop.

_Viper, Combat Air Patrol, Galactica Controlled Space_

Lt. Louanne 'Kat' Katraine, had not been a member of the CDF before the Holocaust. After she finished school she had taken a job as a boonie jumper, running small loads around the Colony's and small habitats that dotted the home systems,. After being picked as Viper pilot candidate most of the training revolved around flying and what little was known about Cylon ships she had no idea what she was seeing

Dradis had it as, 710 meters long, 270 meters across and 88 meters high. Kat could see it was a big ship, at least half the size of Galactica. It had what looked like a single landing pod tucked in underneath and behind the 'head' section and was covered in gun emplacements. Dradis updated, a Dreadnought class Battlecruiser and Identify Friend or Foe locked on to its transponder. The CDF Helios.

'Kat' could hear her wing mates cheering and laughing over the radio and knew she should call on them to quite down, but she was cheering as loud as anybody, tears running down her cheeks

_C.I.C. Battlecruiser Helios Unknown System._

"We are receiving a transmission Priority One channel Sir." A Communication Specialist reported

"Put it on speaker." Captain Siam ordered with a quick look at Commander Crichton.

Crichton nodded encouragingly as he watched Captain Siam run his ship. The speaker crackled to life.

"Battlestar Galactica to CDF Helios come in."

"This is the Helios we are receiving you Galactica." Captain Siam answered into his microphone.

"Standby for Galactica Actual, Fleet Admiral Adama." The unidentified voice ordered.

Captain Siam was stunned he knew Adama was a Commander.

"Acknowledged Galactica, Standing By." Crichton jumped in talking over Siam's shoulder, into the receiver.

Captain Bas Siam hastily covered the communication receiver in his hand.

"But Sir! He's trying to pull something, William Adama is a much a Fleet Admiral as I am. They're trying to take control." He protested to Crichton.

"We wan't them in control Bas, as long as they do a good job of it." John Crichton drawled.

"This is Galactica Actual." The load speaker announced to the Helios CIC.

Crichton held out his hand to the Helios Captain. Bas handed over the microphone.

"Good to hear your voice, Fleet Admiral, congratulation on the promotion, this is Commander Crichton." John said.

"Its good to hear from you as well Commander we are about to Jump, the Fleet has been here too long we are sending you coordinates." The Adama ordered.

Crichton was taken aback, he could understand what Adama and probably who ever was the President were doing. They were trying to assume command and abstractly, he approved they needed a clear leadership if the Colonials were to survive. And he and Aeryn certainly didn't wan't to be in the top jobs. At the same time he couldn't be regulated to an obedient follower, he had plans and too much and too many people counted on him being in a position to accomplice those plans.

"Acknowledged Galactica Actual, I am transferring to the Xiphos, please have your landing officer direct us in. I will be joining you, ETA 10 minutes, then we can Jump." Crichton stated.

_C.I.C. Battlestar Galactica._

"That cheeky son of a bitch." Colonel Tigh commented.

"That he is Saul. Operations start working out landing instructions for a Calypso class frigate, to the Port Landing Pod." William Adama smiled slightly if he was reading it right, Commander Crichton was saying he would support him as Fleet Admiral but only so far.

"Aspect change Sir. Helios is extending her landing pod she has also altered course moving into formation with Galactica." Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla reported.

"Mr. Gaeta as soon as the Pod is retracted and the Xiphos secure you may begin the Jump, Colonel Tigh and I will go down and welcome Commander Crichton onboard, see that President Roslin and Vice President Balter know we are receiving him in ten minutes." Adama ordered.

_No 4 Dock, Port Landing Pod Battlestar Galactica._

William Adama watched as Laura Roslin, and her entourage made they're way from Dock 3 and Colonial One to his own group clustered around the airlock to Dock 4. He had expected Billy Keikeya and maybe the new girl, Tory Foster but seeing Wallace Gray was a surprise, even hanging back with the presidential bodyguard. Adama had thought the man on the outs with the Roslin administration.

The armored blast shields covering the windows around the dock were open so they had a spectacular view of the Xiphos coming in to land. The Calypso class frigate moved into position and deployed landing gear. Adama looked over the ship as the Presidents group joined him Saul, Lee and the four Marines. 90 meters long with three spinal fitted 7-inch rail-guns, a Broadside of 10, 7-inch cannons mixed with 9 missile batteries. With a 84-piece ½ inch rail-gun point defense suit, it was a tough little battleship. Designed to scout ahead of its Battlestar, be able to get out of any trouble it got into and report back.

"Well Fleet Admiral have you spoken to Commander Crichton yet." Laura Roslin asked as they watched the gantry extend out to lock on to the side of the Xiphos.

"We exchanged a few words, Madam President, he seemed to imply he would like to support your administration but that he wasn't going to be pushed around." The airlock pressurized.

Laura Roslin frowned slightly, as the bulkhead door infront of her began to open. All in all, she couldn't of hoped for better news from Adama, but it was still worrying they were living on the edge any dissention, especially at the level of this Commander Crichton could push them over.

'Starbuck' jogged up hastily straightening her dress Grey's. On her way to her position in the line up, she paused as she passed behind Adama and Roslin.

"Sir, Madam President. Mr. Gaeta still hasn't been able to contact the Vice President" Kara said quietly then continued on, to take her place next to 'Apollo'

Bill Adama and Laura Roslin exchanged a look; both concerned about how unreliable Gaius Balter was becoming. Then the two leaders focused on the opening hatch infront of them, as the newcomers stepped onto Galactica.

First through the hatch were two Marines they took station one on each side of the door. Saul Tigh caught sight of an unfamiliar badge on each of the Marines, shoulder patches. Then the Commander exited followed by two Captains.

Crichton stepped out of the walkway and onto Galactica, infront of him the dignitaries were lined up. Directly opposite of him, was the man in the Commanders uniform, Crichton guessed they didn't have any spare Fleet Admiral uniforms in stores? He would have to see if he had anything lying around. Standing next to Fleet Admiral Adama were a striking older civilian women and a tall balding Colonel. The civilian Lady had her own escort including Plain-Clothes guards. Both the Colonial Defense Fleet officers had the look of old fighters, in the case of the Colonel probably a dirty fighter, while Galactica's CO looked more of a thinker. But they both looked like they needed a break. The civilian women who he was guessing was either the President or a top official, looked smart and friendly and also quite capable of ripping somones heart out while they watched, still looking smart and friendly as she did it.

John planted himself infront of Adama and came to attention and fired off his best salute.

Adama returned Commander Crichton's salute. Trying to get a feel for the man. He had been through hell, that was what he saw in Crichton's eyes.

It had been a shock when he had realized what was off about the boy, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mark Usen, when he had first met him. Usen hadn't been ripped apart, pulled himself back together only to be ripped apart again, over and over until the only thing holding him up, was some vague memory of who you once where. The boy had been devastated, mentally scared but he had not been dragged through the bottom reaches of hades.

What had shocked Adama, was the look in the eyes of everyone in the Fleet, the look that was absent in Lt. Usen. It wasn't the result of the holocaust as he had thought. It was the escape the continual fear of attack the constant battle alert, that had put that haunted look in the eyes of the people of his Fleet. Now he could see that unlike Mark Usen, Crichton had been through his own hell.

"Permission to come aboard, Fleet Admiral." Crichton asked.

"Permission granted Commander Crichton, Madam President allow me to introduce Commander John Crichton of the Hades. Commander Crichton, the President of the Twelve Colony's of Kobol, Laura Roslin." Adama preformed the introductions.

"Of course Fleet Admiral, it is a great pleasure to meet you Commander, a great pleasure and a great lifting of spirit, I had given up hope that others might have survived." Laura declared. Gently taking Crichton's offered hand into her own.

"I would say it was a great pleasure to meet you too, ma'am. But then my fiancée would kill us both." Crichton replied smiling. Returning the statuesque brunette's handshake.

Laura Roslin smiled a little uncertainly and cast a quick sideways look at Bill Adama but the Fleet Admiral was already moving on, introducing Tigh.

"This is Colonel Saul Tigh my XO." Adama said.

"Colonel." Crichton nodded to the hard-bitten officer.

"Commander I will say, I am glad to see you." Tigh said as they shook hands.

"These are Captain Adama my son and CAG and Lieutenant Kara Thrace my top Pilot." Adama finished.

"Good to meet you Sir." Apollo said.

"An honor Sir." Starbuck didn't even try not to grin.

"Ladies, Gentlemen this Captain Siam of the Battlecruiser Helios and Captain Carter of the Frigate Xiphos."

There was another round of introductions

_Colonial One docked, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

Captain Greenbean Carter was showing off the Xiphos to Colonel Saul Tigh. While Lieutenant Kara Thrace and Captain Lee Adama took Captain Bas Siam back out to his ship. President Roslin and Fleet Admiral Adama wanted to talk to Commander Crichton.

Crichton was sprawled on one of the comfortable lounge chairs with his two Marine escorts standing behind him. Laura Roslin sat across from him in another, while Bill Adama stood beside her chair. Two of the Secret Service agents stood unobtrusively in the rooms corners facing Crichton's group while Tory Foster set some drinks on the small table in the middle of the room

"That will be all Tory, thank you." Laura said as she picked up a cup of tea and took a sip.

"Madam President." Tory gave her boss a nod and quietly left the room. She wasn't the lest surprised to find five marines waiting outside the door.

Back inside the Presidents office, all parties were sizing each other up.

"President Roslin, Fleet Admiral Adama this is going to be awkward for all of us. So I am just going to start the ball rolling, see how you react to it." Crichton broke the silence.

"Please do Commander." Laura said smiling faintly.

"My command staff drew up a plan for hooking up the Fleets, once we found out about you, from our intercepts of Cylon communication. It involved us slipping you as much help as we could without comprising our existence to the enemy, while you cleaned house, removing any Cylon infiltrators you had among you." Crichton said.

"Obviously something has changed Lieutenant Usen expected only the Xiphos to make contact." Adama said.

"Yes shortly after I sent Captain Carter and his people off on the first stage of the plan, a group of criminals hiding amongst our civilians made a run for it. We can only assume the Cylons caught them. The toasters showed up at our base in the Nike system and we had to retreat." Crichton explained.

"So you decided to speed up the process Commander?" Laura asked.

"Without a fixed position, it would be risky keeping in contact between two running groups, especially with us having to Jump unexpectedly when the Cylons show up" Adama guessed.

"Exactly Fleet Admiral, so here I am, we decided to bite the bullet and try to hook up as soon as possible and work on the infiltration problem after the fact. The Cylons already know too much about my Fleet." Crichton agreed.

"I take it you will be providing us the location of your Fleet then Commander." Laura asked.

"That's right Madam President, as soon as we have worked some details out. and please call me John." Crichton said.

"Won't your fiancée become upset at the familiarity, John." President Roslin asked with a smile.

"Naw, I may have exaggerated slightly, Aeryn's a great girl." Crichton said. Making a show of crossing his fingers, to the puzzlement of everybody in the room.

"Is this Aeryn the same Aeryn Sun, Commander of the Battlestar Medusa." Adama asked.

"That's my girl, G.I Jane." Crichton grinned.

"Your aware of the regulations against such liaisons." Adama said frowning, G.I Jane?

"Yep we revoked them, time of emergency and all that." Crichton answered not moved in the slightest.

"That sounds remarkably sensible, I am sure we can ratify an amendment to the CDF Code of Conduct, Bill." President Roslin broke in before an argument could start.

"Saul and I are already looking the other way for several couple's, aboard Galactica Madam President, but to actually rewrite the rules that govern our service that's a different matter." Adama replied.

"I'm afraid Fleet Admiral, we were forced to make quite a few changes to regulations, which your signing off on, will be some of the details we will need to work out, that I mentioned earlier, before the Fleets can get together." Crichton stated.

William Adama and Laura Roslin before stared at John Crichton; he had slipped from being almost too easy going for the gravity of the situation, to being deadly serious in a heartbeat.

"Such as, Commander Crichton?" President Roslin asked, letting a bit of steel into her voice.

John immediately relaxed back into his chair and smiled charmingly.

"Well take the original discrimination regulations, they're too specific for my taste, they cover discrimination based on Sex, Race, Religion, Disability and Height but don't mention Species, we fixed that." John sat back in the comfortable seat and watched his hosts

_Frigate Xiphos docked, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

Colonel Saul Tigh looked at his old friend; Greenbean Carter was built along much the same lines as William Adama a bulldog of a man, not tall but wide shoulders and full of muscle he was a decade younger than Saul or Adama.

"You're saying he's crazy?" Colonel Tigh asked incredulously.

"As a Loon, believes in Aliens thinks he's from Earth, you know the 13th Colony and, Gods the nonsense he drops into regular conversation it warps the mind I tell you Saul." Greenbean took a pull from his beer; they were in his cabin on the Xiphos.

"Why the Frak is he running your Fleet then!" Saul barked.

"Because Commander Sun and Colonel Torins back him and he's a Hero, saved all our arses on Holocaust day, the damm kids who run the Fleet worship the ground he walks on!" Greenbean told him.

"Now he's got himself a new friend, he will be talking to pot plants soon. Then they will have to make him step down, no matter how much of a genius he is." Saul was picking up a lot of hostility and bitterness. He didn't know how much of what his old friend was saying to believe.

"New friend?" Tigh was pretty sure he didn't wan't to know.

"That crazy Pilot you off loaded onto me, and don't think I didn't appreciate that Saul." Captain Carter sneered.

"What crazy Pilot." Tigh demanded.

"That Sharon Valerii who thinks she a Cylon, we locked her up over on the Helios I hear Commander Crichton spent an hour talking to her and now there best buds." Greenbean told Colonel Tigh.

Tigh stood up abruptly this was all too weird for him, but one thing he did know the 'Old Man' needed to be told that one of Galactica's crew was in the brig on the Helios

Greenbean Carter saluted Tigh with his beer as the Galactica XO charged out the room.

_Colonial One docked, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

"Species! you mean you wan't laws against discriminating against Cylons." Laura exclaimed.

"No Madam President the only Cylons I've seen have DNA indiscernible from ours." Crichton replied.

"Then what do you mean." Adama demanded.

"Whoa lets not get bogged down in details. I will have the documents sent over, its just one of things we have to get through if we are to work together. For instance I think you two are going to take a lot of convincing to get behind Operation Exodus, and Operation Bo-Peep would go a lot faster with your help." John had decided on his strategy before he walked in the door. He couldn't unload the facts on the Colonials all at once, despite having a multi planet society they tended to be a bit, provincial. So he would drop a hint or two, let them think about it, then send the Admiral a nice dry report when he, Crichton was on another ship, preferably in another star system.

William Adama knew he was being diverted from something, that at least Crichton believed to be important, but he really needed to know something about the other fleets operational status. And he couldn't think of any scenario where species discrimination would play a big part in Fleet doctrine.

"Would you care to explain Exodus and Bo-Peep to us." Both Adama and Roslin thought they had a pretty good idea of Exodus, the title was very descriptive but Bo-Peep? The words were so much noise to them.

"Operation Bo-Peep, like merging our two refugee fleets, had to be speeded up. In fact bringing our fleets together was the first step. The Cylons believe there are eight groups of Colonials fleeing, Bo-peep's aim is to join up those groups." Crichton began.

"Eight more groups! Do you have any more details, how many people might have survived." Laura asked.

"Not a lot, I'm afraid Madam President, most of the reports are just comment on sightings. The most informative one is on the Pegasus group, which details a sighting of the Battlestar Pegasus and sixteen civilian ships, in a raid on a Cylon supply depot. The next best is a group of Destroyers believed to be escorting several civilian ships, all the other reports are just area's of suspected Colonial activity." Crichton said.

President Roslin sat back; this was ridiculous commander Crichton seemed to be full of stunning reevaluations. William Adama was also reeling, he knew Admiral Cain he had served on her father's Battlestar during the first war.

John looked at his stunned audience and figured he had done enough damage for today, well maybe not the whole day, but at least for now.

"Madam President Roslin, Fleet Admiral Adama, I have given you a lot to think about. Why don't I head back over to the Helios, I will send you what we have on the survivors, and an outline of Bo-Peep. And of course the changes we have had to make to colonial law and CDF regulations, then we take this up again tomorrow." Crichton said standing.

"Sir, Madam I wan't you to both know, I and my people wan't to work with you. But we have been on our own, making it up as we go along since the Holocaust. I am sure you would shock yourselves, from four months ago." Crichton said.

Adama thought about that. What would William Adama from four months ago think of him now?

"Maybe your right Commander, We will see you tomorrow." Adama didn't think he had a choice anyway, unless he wanted to throw Crichton in the brig. The Fleet Admiral escorted Crichton out past the squad of Marines and detailed a crewman to show Crichton and his escorts to the Raptor bay so they could arrange a flight back to the Battlecruiser.

Before going back onto Colonial One he picked up one of the internal phones.

"Command." He told the operator.

"CIC." Lt. Gaeta answered.

"This is the Admiral, sitrep." Adama ordered.

"Yes sir, the jump went off without a hitch, all ships accounted for. Sir we are fielding a lot of calls about the Helios from the Civy ships and the Quorum has been trying to get in touch with the President or the Vice President who we still haven't been able to find." Lt. Gaeta reported.

"What have you been telling them." Adama asked.

"Just the bare minimum, the Helios is another CDF ship that's joined up with us. We have told the Quorum that you and the President are in a meeting with the Helios Captain Sir. Colonel Tigh said he needed to check on something and took a Raptor over to the Helios, he sent Petty Officer Dualla to brief you, she should be with you in a minute." Lt. Gaeta answered.

"Very well, Commander Crichton is on his way down to the flight deck, make sure there is a Raptor ready to take him to the Helios. Carry on Mr. Gaeta. Adama out." Adama signed off and hung the phone up.

_Pilots Wardroom, Battlecruiser Helios_

John Crichton watched the dirty blonde from Galactica hustle his pilots at cards. She had gotten a cigar from somewhere and was puffing away as she held court, and his kids flocked to her, eating up her story's even as she cleaned out what ever little cash he had managed to scrounge up to pay them with.

Crichton had arranged for everything he had promised to be sent over to the Galactica, in an hours time. He knew, what he had to tell them would blow the Colonials minds, and with tension as tight and emotion as high as he had felt it, walking the halls of the old Battlestar. Crichton could see it going very bad, very quickly. He needed them off balance, but in a good way, so he had hunted down Galactica's pilots. Lee Adama had struck him as a serious young man, who probably did a good job as Commander Air Group for Galactica. But not what Crichton needed right at the moment.

Kara Thrace looked like someone who would go above and beyond what he hoped to happen. Crichton stepped into the room.

"Attention on deck!" Lieutenant "Prowler" Kreen shouted the Xarai pilot spotted him first and jumped to attention.

"At ease soldiers. Well Lieutenant, my people keeping you entertained." John asked as he walked over to the table.

"Yes Sir." Kara answered. This was only the second time she had met the new Commander. He was about 185 centimeters tall, had dark brown hair, good looking, with what her dad called, laugh lines around blue eyes and a slightly ironic smile on a nice mouth.

"They have been keeping me out of trouble Sir." Kara finished with a cheeky grin.

"Good, Captain Siam has shown you his pride and joy. So now I thought I would show off one of my pet projects, if you have few minutes." Crichton said.

"Of course Sir." You didn't say no to a Commander, without a good reason and although her hand was good it wasn't that good. 'Starbuck' followed Crichton out of the wardroom.

_Launch Bay Battlecruiser Helios_

It looked like a Mark Two, Kara was disappointed to see, a bit longer, the guns looked different, bulkier the barrels not as long. The engines looked different from what little she could see, exhaust ports squarer with a strange looking grill inside. It had the sturdiness and solid look of a Mark Two, which 'Starbuck' had come to appreciate; still she preferred the sleek ultra-modern look of the Mark Seven.

She was pleased she barely felt a twinge out of her knee as she climbed easily inside.

'Starbuck' settled into the Vipers cockpit, the first thing she noticed was the smell it smelled new. She knew right away, no one had ever flown this bird in a fight, the tang of fear, adrenaline and sweat was unmistakable. The ground crews could never get rid of it, no matter how often they cleaned, disinfected or deodorized

Kara barely noticed as the Viper was slotted into a Launch tube too busy going over the controls. It had everything she was used to from before the holocaust ECM, decoys, flares the HUD was projected onto the closed canopy. A digital display covered the console, Dradis in the middle, a schematic of the ship showing all components green to the left and on the right the weapons panel. The control stick with fire switches for canons, missile and afterburner. The thrust lever sitting comfortably under her left hand. The panels of controls for regulating the ship systems squeezed in around the sides.

There were a few unfamiliar controls through, some were labeled field strength they all showed green so she didn't worry about them. Other's for cannon power setting, did worry her, but she thought she would work them out with Chief Tyrol later when she got back to Galactica.

"You all set Lieutenant." Commander Crichton's voice came over the radio.

"Yes sir." 'Starbuck replied.

'Starbuck' threw a thumbs up to the launch coordinator in his sealed booth.

_Galactica Controlled Space, Viper S2 Mk1 Test Flight._

Kara Thrace had never flown anything like it, the new Viper seemed to anticipate her and responded with stunning speed.

Cruising at 11 percent of the speed of light she made a run down the spine of the Galactica nose to tail, as she passed the black engine pods 'Starbuck' gunned the viper to full speed and pulled back. Performing a prefect loop and twist, leveling out traveling at a Mk VII's top speed, racing along the Battlestar's underside at 14 PLS. As her Viper erupted from under the saurian head. She pulled a quick barrel roll and Kara was in open space infront of the Fleet.

It was nothing she couldn't have done in her Mk II, not as fast perhaps, unless she wanted to waste fuel on afterburn, but she could have made the same maneuvers. But the ease and grace, she could achieve with the new ship was intoxicating.

"Starbuck this is Commander Crichton how's she handling?" Crichton's voice came over the helmets speakers with crystal sharpness.

"Great Commander, this bird fly's like a dream." Kara replied grinning.

"Good to hear 'Starbuck' OK according to Dradis there nothing infront of you so I am going to disable the limiter." Crichton told the Ace pilot.

"What limiter?" 'Starbuck' asked. This Viper was limited somehow?

"Yep, you are actually running on one third power, half a second and then you'll see something." Crichton explained.

"What!" Even as she spoke the power display flickered and updated, a second before she had been redlining, now the speedometer showed her well bellow cruising speed.

"You have got to be Frakking me!" She had just been flying one of the fastest ships in Colonial history; sure they had ships that could make better time, get up to 15 or 16 PLS. But they were largely abandoned years ago, except in the space races, no one could afford to rebuild an engine every week, but now she's told she'd had the brakes on.

Cautiously, because although she was 'Starbuck' she wasn't stupid. Kara begin slowly increasing the thrust, and the speed climbed 18 PLS, 20PLS, 21PLS the Colonial record for an unmanned probe, unbroken for the last three years, until now. And still the numbers kept climbing, not slowly either 30, 35, 40, 45. Now the she could feel the strain of a Viper reaching its top speeds a slight weight on the controls a barely detectable shimmy in the frame.Thrust to max 48 PLS without consciously thinking about it, her thumb slipped into position and pressed firmly.

52 PLS Kara was pushed hard back into the seat as the Afterburner kicked the Viper forward, she was traveling at over half the speed of light.

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

"So what's up with the Translator Microbes, why can't I talk to D'Argo." Chiana asked.

"I am afraid the Translator Microbes were destroyed in the healing process."Rovhu's Pilot answered.

Chiana shuddered she didn't wan't any reminder of the healing, over a Cycle and a half! And most definitely, no reminders of the wound she was healing from all that time.

D'Argo growled and rumbled in the Luxan language, probably asking what she had said. Chiana shared a sigh with Pilot this was going to take some time.

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A/N Talk talk talk hopefully I will get to blow something up soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 8

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_CIC the Frigate Guard, in orbit Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Clara Tores, murderess, stood her watch on the Guard, a Moyan Frigate on loan to the Colonial Defense Forces. She was feeling slightly ridiculous, here she she was 67 years old, and after thirty eight years she was back to being a Lieutenant. She'd had her career in the CDF, and fallen in love with the subtleties of communication. When her enlistment was up she had gone back to school, and earned her qualifications as a linguist. She'd had a very enjoyable career as a translator for the Quorum and murdered seven people who had really pissed her off. Killed four with her own hands in various ways, from arranging an accident with a lift, to stabbing one in the eye, the other three she had paid cash for.

When the Holocaust came she had been on a CDF prison barge that had joined up with Crichton's Fleet. Most of the prisoners had been set free, back into their jobs in the CDF or CMC, but some like her and Captain Mace Croft or his wife Senior Lieutenant Leda Croft, were category one criminals that the forces wouldn't let back in, even with the worlds ending. Gods she wouldn't have let most of the category ones shine her shoes, and she new that most would never see the outside of the prison barge. But some like her, Commander's Crichton and Sun had given the option to join the Moyan Group and when she accepted, she figured it was better than the alternative, then the universe really went crazy.

Now she was an officer on a captured Cylon Hunter-Killer corvette. Reclassified as a Frigate and named the Guard. And several times a week she visited the Pilot, a four armed crustacean like Alien, who referred to himself as Pilot, of the 645 meter long living ship named Rovhu who was an intelligent being of a species called Leviathan.

"Sir we are receiving a call from the Leviathan." Specialist Delts announced.

"Put it on the speaker." Clara ordered.

"Guard this is the Pilot of the Leviathan Rovhu." Clara was fascinated by how Pilot always identified himself by Rovhu, as if he had no identity outside of the Leviathan he was bonded to. Clara knew the Pilot had his own name, she had spent hours working on the pronunciation and thought she had made some progress, but he never used it and had been quite surprised when Clara had asked him.

"Pilot this is the Guard, Lieutenant Tores here, what can we do for you Sir." Clara asked.

"Ahh, Lieutenant Tores, it was to you I wished to speak. Twelve hours ago Ka D'Argo and Chiana awoke from the unconsciousness caused by the Builder Substance." Pilot informed her.

Clara felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine; this was what she had been preparing herself for.

"Alert the Captain, Specialist Delts." Lieutenant Tores ordered.

"How are Chiana and D'Argo doing, Sir." Tores continued. Turning back to the main speaker.

"After some expected confusion, they have both calmed down, they are however frustrated, at their inability to communicate with each other." Pilot reported.

"Captain on deck." Chief Petty Officer Welan Toc called from his station at Operations

Clara Tores stepped down from the command podium to make room for Captain Mace Croft and the XO of the Guard, his wife Senior Lieutenant Leda Croft.

"Pilot this is Captain Croft, I am told Chiana and D'Argo are up and about." Mace shared a look with his wife. Not quite sure how to take this development. On one hand the main job of his ship since the Holocaust had been keeping the two Aliens safe and now that they were awake, hopefully he and his ship would get a crack at the Cylons. On the other hand he had just gained two Aliens in the chain of command above him.

"That is correct Captain Croft, they are doing as well as can be expected considering their sudden change of circumstances. I believe they are ready to begin the next step in familiarizing themselves with the local culture and political situation. I would like to request Lieutenant Tores aid in this matter." Croft couldn't help smiling slightly, while his duties didn't allow him to go down to Rovhu as much as most of the rest of the crew did. He was still familiar with Pilot, and the thought of that giant four armed Alien crab making the formal speeches he heard over the radio, well it always stuck him as slightly ludicrous.

Mace Croft looked at the kindly looking women, the picture of everyone's favorite aunt, who he knew was one of the most dangerous people he had ever met. He knew Clara had been studying for this moment for a long time and had been looking forward to it just as long. So he was not surprised when he received a firm nod in return for his questioning look.

"Lieutenant Tores is heading to the shuttle bay now Pilot, she should be joining you in ten to fifteen minutes. Is there anything else we can do for you."

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

"So all these humans work for us, Pilot." D'Argo asked, still trying to get a handle on the displaced Moyan's new situation.

"That is in essence correct, though in fact it is more complicated than that." Pilot replied.

"What do you mean Pilot." Chiana asked, they had gotten used to the lengthy delays in conversation as Pilot repeated everything in both Luxan and Nebari. Chiana was pretty sure Pilot wouldn't put up with it much longer.

"From what Commanders Sun and Crichton have told me, the Moyan Group started out as a tool, to facilitate hiring scientists and engineers and the puchase of supply's and a ship. In a effort to salvage the derelict Cylon Hades class Basestar, that they found in orbit around the Cauldron Artifact." Pilot replied.

Chiana still reeled at what they had been through, since she had joined up with the others on Moya her life had been fahrbot, not as bad as it had been before but still fahrbot, this latest turn. Well it was fahrbot as well, just on a bigger scale.

"After the attack on the Colonial worlds by the Cylons, the Moyan Groups purpose became less clear. Over half of the Xarai have resigned, to join the Colonial Defense Forces or Colonial Marine Core. While over two thousand Colonials who for many reasons, do not wish to work for their own government, but still feel they can contribute to the salvation of their species, have hired on."

"So the Moyan Group is still going strong on the books, but really everyone working for it, is on loan to the Colonial armed forces." Chiana summed up.

"And we, Chiana and I are directors for this company, along with Crichton and Aeryn, which owns this Basestar you have mentioned two captured Cylon Corvettes and the Battlestar Medusa?" D'Argo asked.

"Yes Ka D'Argo, with Rovhu and myself, you are all listed as the owners of the Moyan Group which assets include. The Guard and its sister ship The Defender, which is now in dock on the Hades being refitted to a more modern standard. The Hades itself is at this time also ours, but Commanders Sun and Crichton plan to turn it over to the Colonial government at an opportune time. The Medusa's ownership may also be part of negotiations, although Commander Sun would be loath to part with the vessel." Pilot lectured.

Ka D'Argo growled, frustrated he wanted to shout at someone, preferably John. Decisions had been made without him, which seemed to him, to be questionable, but Rovhu's Pilot only knew what John and Aeryn had told him on their quick visits. He had been almost as isolated as D'Argo and Chiana in their healing coma or what ever it had been.

Chiana had a different slant on what she was told; her first reaction was, I own stuff, a lot of stuff. The second was wondering what John and Aeryn could possibly expect her to do for the company and to begin to worry about how she would mess things up for her friends.

"So this Lieutenant Tores who works for us, or maybe the CDF is on her way down to Rovhu and she will help us with all things Colonial and learning the language." Chiana said as much to distract herself, than to clarify the point.

"That is correct Chiana." Pilot said with a sigh, with Rovhu sensors he watched the Cylon shuttle, touch down next to the Leviathan and hoped Clara Tores would be quick. He could not stand much more of the constant back and forth translations, a few more minutes of this and he would ask Rovhu to submerge again in the Builder Artifact.

Lieutenant Tores climbed down the ladder from the top airlock into the Leviathan hallways. She had never really thought about Aliens she mussed. Before the holocaust, every now and then, a sort of fad would come round again. And Aliens would be a hot topic of conversation, but the Colony's had been in space for thousands of years and their Kobolian ancestors for thousands before that, and nowhere in the records, was there a confirmed sighting.

Now she was going to meet members of three different races. She had spent a lot of time with Pilot over the last three months talking about language's and Colonial civilization, Leviathan and Pilot history and hundred and one other things. By now she almost considered the giant symbiote a friend. Commander's Sun and Crichton had told her a bit about Chiana and Ka D'Argo, she knew her Commanders considered the two completely trustworthy and Clara had been preparing herself for this encounter. But still, she had to steel herself when she turned the last corner. She could hear the two new voices, a deep rolling growl that had to be the Luxan's and a musical high pitched call, like a songbirds, from the Nebari.

As she drew closer, Clara was able to make out individual words. D'Argo's accent was completely different from the version of Luxan Pilot had been teaching her, while Chiana's was almost exactly the same. Which made sense, from what Pilot had told her the Luxan's had a vast and diverse culture much like the Colonies, while the Nebari government, the Establishment, had stamped out any diversion from the norm as antisocial. Clara wasn't yet completely fluent in either of the languages but she could make herself understood and was improving, it was her talent and she had worked hard to prepare for her students.

Clara entered the Den, she was immediately struck by how vivid the two beings were, red and grey didn't even start to describe them. The women, girl really, had looked almost human when she was a blue statue, now moving around, a dramatic collection of angles and stances, which were definitely non-human, near luminous pale grey skin with stark white hair. The man was at ease, talking to Pilot, but still radiated strength, the strange tentacles flowing from his head.

"Hello Chiana." In Nebari.

"Hello Ka D'Ago" In Luxan.

The two spun away from Pilot, turning to face her. The Luxan taking a long stride forward to place himself between the newcomer and the Nebari girl.

"I am Lieutenant Clara Tores and I will be teaching you this language." In Colonial standard.

As a wave of growls and trills washed over her, Clara grinned; this was going to be great.

_Briefing Room, Battlestar Galactica, System Unknown_

William Adama looked at the mission plan infront of him. The pages of notes and diagrams were in regular CDF format, which made what was written on them even more surreal.

The plan, Exodus was a very broad outline, with most of the detail to be added when the final count of Colonial Defense Force ships was in, after operation Bo-Peep finished. But there was a scaled down version, using only the forces at hand. The two Battlestar's the Hades the two Battlecruiser's and six Frigates. The plan called for all vessels to be refitted to what it called Moyan standard.

Adama, Tigh, Captain Adama, Lt. Gaeta, Lt. Thrace and Chief Tyrol had been going over the specs for the upgrades for hours now.

"This is mad." Saul muttered for what must have been the ninety-ninth time.

Chief Tyrol and Lt. Gaeta had their heads together going over the schematics for the Series Two Viper; they had in the landing pod.

"That maybe sir, but this is real." Galen Tyrol said holding up one of the blueprints. He had spent most of the night, going over the ship 'Starbuck' had landed on his flight deck. Inspecting every inch of the Viper with a fine toothed comb and ten hours later was still in awe at what he had seen.

"Very." Kara threw in, from were she and Lee were working their way through the capabilities of the new capital ship weapon systems.

"But even after having flown that Viper, I still can't believe the energy levels for these weapons, if even half of this is true, Basestar's just went from being the badest thing around to target practice." 'Starbuck' had spent well over an hour in the cockpit of the new fighter doing things she had never even dreamed of.

"Ok the Vipers are a piece of work. I watched your little show on Dradis and it was impressive as all hell. The weapons, he says he can produce, have a lot of power behind them, but even if we hook up with the Pegasus and the Destroyers, which again we have only his word for, we will still be out numbered dozens if not hundreds to one. We would be in blown to bits before we could get our second shot off. " Tigh argued.

"Defense Screen." Lee said handing him another set of plans.

Saul took it with a grimace, this had too good to be true written all over it, but almost any explanation, except maybe mass delusion, would be an even more bizarre story than what was happening. And unfortunately mass delusion didn't account for the super Viper Crichton had given them.

William Adama went through the mission brief again and felt a tug of anticipation, even if the entire operation was a disaster from beginning to end, they would be no worse off than they were now.

_Colonial One, Presidential Office, Docked Battlestar Galactica._

"So we have these Aliens that look human, Sebacean's, 1200 plus of them in the other fleet. Over half of them are sworn in as members of our Defense forces. The others are working for what looks like a mercenary company, allied to us, with contracts signed by a Marine Colonel, a Major in the Colonial Marshal's and the Hades Civilian Council." Laura Roslin sat at her desk, her advisors arranged around the room in their accustomed seats, she thought she should be working on the mother of all migraines, but what she really felt like, was dancing around the room giggling like a school girl. She was restraining herself only out of compassion for her shell-shocked staff, who for some reason didn't share her glee.

After they had listened to Captain Davis Carey excited commentary from Colonial Ones Bridge, as he watched Lieutenant Thrace's flight on Dradis. Then they had received the amazing documents from Commander Crichton.

Billy had started out enthusiastically, but after a few minutes reading the memos and reports, shock seemed to set in and he had gone quite. Not something she expected from the normally open and out spoken young man. Wallace tried to have dismissed the whole thing as some kind of elaborate hoax and when more and more evidence, began to push him from that position he too had dropped out of the conversation thinking hard. Tory had handled it best to start with, moving on as if Alien's where just a another part of the political equation. Trying to work the angles, but Laura had realized that the younger women hadn't really accepted anything, and was as much in shock as the others. Just handling it differently. Laura had sent them all off for a few hours sleep, now they were back and the President hoped to get more reasoned opinion's from her people.

"According to what these say, none of the Xarai Sebacean's have any real memory of their lives before coming here. So our problem is trying to predict how other people will react to them, and quite frankly as profound and important as this is, meeting Aliens. I think most people have more important things to worry about." Wallace said a little dubiously for Laura's taste, but at least he had been thinking about it.

"The people of the other fleet seemed to have accepted them with no problems." Billy put in.

"True and as Wallace says, people have other things on their minds. I think this will be a problem when things change, either the Fleet prospers and people get more time for it to sink in, or things take yet another turn for the worst and people start lashing out at minorities. In which case we have hundreds of years of experience at how to deal with it. I'm more concerned with John Crichton, Aeryn Sun and the others this doesn't go into details about, that know where they came from and have there own agenda's." Laura had seen Earth mentioned only once, in passing. It was obvious that of all the things he had to say, John Crichton thought his planet of origin was the least important, Laura disagreed.

"The Moyan Group, I haven't seen anything here that says what they wan't." Picking one of the papers on the coffee table Tory scanned it quickly. "They claim salvage right, ownership of the Hades the Battlestar Medusa and two light units and that's it nothing about what they plan to do." Tory looked around at the others but left her comment hanging.

"Well we will be joining the Galactica staff soon, maybe then we can get some answers." The President said.

_C.I.C. Battlecruiser Helios, in formation with the Battlestar Galactica._

"Dradis contact!"

"What have we got!" Captain Siam barked, as he made his way to the command podium in the center of the cavernous room, looking up at the Dradis display. On the screen the Helios the Galactica and the Viper CAP showed as blue triangles while the civilian ships glowed green. Halfway between the fleet and the edge of the display a new blip appeared, yellow for unknown. As Bas watched it switched to the red of an enemy contact.

"Single contact, the Dradis silhouette is to indistinct at this range for a firm lock, it is at least 6000 meters long. Warbook has the contact at 80 percent probability as a Cylon Basestar." The Operations officer reported.

"Call Commander Crichton to CIC, and get me Galactica Actual on the line." Captain Siam ordered.

"Aye Sir!"

_CIC, Battlestar Galactica._

Captain Aaron Kelly, Galactica's Landing Signal Officer had hoped for a quite watch, he had had a few too many the night before in the almost ship wide party that had broken out with the arrival of the Battlecruiser. He listened to Captain Siam's terse briefing and called the Admiral to CIC, now he and Dee worked the Dradis trying to refine the signal but no matter what they did they couldn't find the bogie Helios was reporting.

"Sitrep." Adama strode into CIC followed by Colonel Tigh.

"Sir the Helios is reporting Dradis contact with a suspected Basestar, but we are unable to confirm." Captain Kelly reported.

William Adama spared a glance at the Dradis console seeing only the familiar markers signaling the fleet, with the welcome addition of a second CDF beacon.

"Let me talk to Captain Siam."

"Aye Sir." Aaron passed over the wireless handset.

"Captain Siam this is Admiral Adama what is the range of the suspected Cylon contact."

"Sir the contact is remaining stationary at 76 million kilometers." This was greeted with a shocked silence. Galactica's Dradis array was years out of date and could only scan with any accuracy out to 55 million kilometers. The best systems in the CDF like the giant array of the Picon anchorage had had a range of 70 million kilometers.

"Relay your Dradis to Galactica, CIC. Galactica Actual out." From his reading the night before, Adama had known the Helios boasted the new Moyan Dradis system but to hear the ships Captain casually talk about the incredible range, was something else again.

The Dradis display updated with the new contact appearing. For a second it was circled in yellow showing it was not one hundred percent confirmed as an enemy, then the yellow faded away leaving a solid red. With the Galactica's many battles with the new Cylon ships they had much better readings on the enemy, and the contact was immediately recognized by the old Battlestar's warbook, as a Cylon Basestar.

"Set Condition One through out the fleet! Order all ships to be prepared to jump." Adama stared at the Basestar on the Dradis display, at this range the contact was minutes old it could be right on top of them before the saw it jump on Dradis. "Reposition the Galactica and the Helios on the approach side of the Fleet, we will continue on course until they enter Galactica's Dradis range, but I wan't us to be able to react as soon as possible when they make there move."

"Admiral the Xiphos is requesting permission to launch." Captain Aaron Kelly reported.

_C.I.C. Battlecruiser Helios._

Crichton watched the mad scramble as the Helios made itself ready for war. The crew's movements were practiced, but John felt there was too much panic in the air. He walked over to the communication desk.

"Give me ship wide Specialist Troy." Crichton ordered. Picking up a wireless handset.

"Yes sir." Specialist Troy quickly set up the ship wide broadcast.

"This is Commander Crichton."

_Holding Cell, Battlecruiser Helios._

'Boomer' listened to Crichton's short speech over the intercom, then flopped back down on her bunk. The CDF was going into battle and she was stuck in the brig. Sharon was staring up at the ceiling when a shiver raced down her spine. And she knew.

"Guard. I need to speak to Commander Crichton immediately!"

_CIC, Battlestar Galactica._

"Sir Commander Crichton wishes to speak to you." Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla reported.

Adama took the handset.

"Commander Crichton this is Admiral Adama."

"Admiral that Basestar just activated a sub-space beacon, letting every Human form Cylon know it's out there." Crichton said without preamble.

Adama was shocked for a second but recovered instantly. The Admiral thought furiously for moment, the fleet really had only one option.

"Mr. Gaeta the Fleet will jump make sure all ships have the correct coordinates and begin the countdown."

"Aye Sir." Tactical Officer Lt. Felix Gaeta had started the checklist even as he answered.

"Commander Crichton, I need you to report aboard the Galactica as soon as the jump is complete."

"Yes Sir." Crichton replied and Adama handed the handset back to Dee.

Most of the preparation had already been completed, by the time the fighter CAP was recovered the 59 ships in the Galactica's Fleet were ready and the Civilian craft began winking out in bursts of light. The Battlestar would be the last to leave.

"Sir Cloud Nine reports FTL failure." Dee called from her station, at the main communications board.

Tigh strode over to the young Sagittarian women's station, taking over listening to the near hysterical Captain of the Cloud Nine luxury liner.

"Sir the Space Park reports, FTL failure."

"Sir! The Botanical Cruiser, their reporting FTL failure as well."

"Sir! The Rising Star reports that the Jump failed."

Information flew in, as ship after ship tried to spin up their FTL drives, only to find the systems were shutting down instead. After a frantic two minutes the Galactica's crew knew that twelve ships of the Fleet had been unable to jump, including the five largest vessels, holding over a quarter of the Fleets population.

"Admiral it's a computer malfunction, almost certainly deliberate. But they have not been able to isolate the problem. The Rising Star has already started a complete reboot, to purge their systems. That a forty minute operation at best." Lieutenant Gaeta reported.

"We won't be able to cover twelve civy ships if the Cylons attack in force." Colonel Tigh said.

"Orders to Colonial One and the Xiphos. Colonial One is to take off immediately and join up with the civilian ships that were able to Jump, the Xiphos is to escort the President." Admiral Adama ordered.

"Colonel Tigh, I wan't a course directly away from the Baseship, get the civy ships on course and moving, we're running. The Galactica will be rear guard with the Helios on point get a full squadron up as CAP."

"Aye Sir."

"Yes Sir."

_Three Way scrambled conference call between Admiral Adama, President Roslin and Commander Crichton._

"How many people are in those ship Admiral." President Laura Roslin on Colonial One as it exits Galactica's port flight pod.

"12,673 crew and passengers Madam President." William Adama in CIC Battlestar Galactica.

"What are there chances?" President Roslin.

"It depends on what the Cylons do, we don't have the ships even with the Helios to cover them if the Cylons attack in force." Admiral Adama.

"Commander Crichton would the other ships in your fleet make a difference." President Roslin.

"Yes Madam President. I haven't seen these new Basestar's in action but the Hades is almost completely updated. It would, I believe make short work of any forces the Cylons are likely to commit to an attack." Commander John Crichton Helios CIC.

"The question is. Is it worth sacrificing any strategic value the new systems hold while being a secret, to bring the hades into this fight?" Commander Crichton.

"I can not believe any future gains we might make, would be worth the loss of the people on those ships Commander." President Roslin.

"I'm not convinced of it either Madam President but it needs to be said. There is a Raptor standing by ready to take any orders you or the Admiral may have to Colonel Torins on the Hades." Commander Crichton.

"Have the Hades come to condition one Commander, and to be ready to Jump in ASAP. We may get out of this yet, Madam President, it is too early in the game to show all our cards, unless we can't help it." Admiral Adama.

"The Captain has started the count down for the Jump, so I wish you gentlemen the best of luck and the may the Lords of Kobol bless you." President Roslin. The link with Colonial One went quite.

"And so say we all."

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A/N (1) I couldn't find the Dradis range anywhere so that's not canon.

(2) For those interested the various ship speeds are based on an article on Wikipedia. In which some clever people worked out Colonial Ones top cruising speed as 11 percent the speed of light. They used the dialog from the miniseries in which we are told how long it takes radio waves, to go from Caprica to where the Galactica is waiting to be decommissioned (speed of light a constant). And how long it takes Colonial One to make the same journey at its best speed. I used that to guesstimate speeds for the other ships.


	9. Chapter 9

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 9

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_Suite 1901, Cloud Nine, Luxury liner._

D'Anna Biers looked at her guest. She had seen the Doctor several times, since he had become vice President. He had always struck the reporter as a bit twitchy. But she didn't think she had ever seen the man this nervous.

"What can I do for you Mr. Vice-President, you didn't go into many details on the wireless." She asked.

"I." Gaius said and stopped, not really knowing what he was going to say. It hadn't been his idea to come here. Suddenly he was standing in his old house back on Caprica. Baltar spun around, trying to find his blonde nemesis. But she was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello." Gaius called.

There was no answer. He looked out over the breath taking view. It had taken millions of cubits and a lot of favors, for him to get this house. He had come to loath it, it was a lie, he knew the reality had been destroyed. This magnificent place was a radioactive wasteland.

"Hello! Where are you, we don't have time for this"

Back in D'Anna Biers rooms, Baltar's body slumped back in his chair.

"Three, its Six the neurochip worked, I have been online since the Liberation." Baltar's voice sounded odd, a little quite and high-pitched.

"That's certainly interesting Mr. Vice-President but you didn't answer my question." D'Anna said frowning slightly.

"We have no time for your games, Three. There was one of us on Galactica, a member of a series I haven't met before. He was there as Captain Luten Cavil, the Galactica's Priest. They tested him, with a hand held machine of some kind, I heard them say it was new. Three, it ripped him to pieces, and when he died I didn't feel a proper surge. What ever was reincarnated, I don't think all of him made it." Baltar's body remained slumped and expressionless throughout the impassioned speech.

D'Anna had known of the Sixes plan, to plant the experimental neurochip in Baltar. Her fellow Number Three's had argued against it, simply because of the improbability of Baltar surviving the Liberation. When she had found out he was with the Galactica Fleet, she had wondered if the chip had worked. But when he didn't contact her, she'd assumed that for whatever reason it was never implanted or that it hadn't worked.

"How much control do you have over the human?" Leaving the question of the death of the Number Two. She had felt the strangely broken surge of a human form Cylon dying. D'Anna was also familiar with the series that had supplied Galactica's Priest.

"Not a lot, I can disjoint him from reality, by closing him in the link between his brain and I. But not for long, I can't hold enough of a charge to interrupt his neuro pathways for longer than ten minutes at a time. And I have very limited motor control. After I do this, I will have to rest for at least a day. I won't even be able to make him see Six's image." The neuro-chip that was controlling Baltar reported.

The two looked at each other for a second, both realizing what that meant. D'Anna rose quickly from her chair and took something out of her desk draw. When she returned to her seat, she held a small handgun.

"What do you know about the new test device." She asked. Nether of the two agents, as much as glanced at the gun.

"Gaius was told it works on principles observed on the gas giant, Ragnar. But they needed him to run some blood tests, through his Cylon detector urgently. He never got the chance to examine the device. I believe those tests were for the first contact with the new fleet. A young male of Tauron decent who was never exposed to large doses of radiation."

"Do you know anything about these other humans."

"Not a lot, the leaders name is John Crichton, he is the Commander of a Battlestar maybe named the Hades. He was aboard the Battlecruiser that's joined the Fleet; there is also a Frigate that has docked on the Galactica. There are at least some civilian ships associated with him and he has agreed to follow Adama and Roslin's lead."

D'Anna found it easy to full back into her roll as an investigative reporter. Asking questions, probing the answers she was given. Looking for any angle that could lead to a course of action, or a new direction to ask questions. It was all in all one of the most productive interviews she had ever taken. The neuro-chip Six didn't know much about the current situation, but Baltar had been part of the human's inner circle since the Liberation. The implanted agent's insight into the inner workings of the Fleet leaderships and the minds of its leaders was profound.

Twelve minutes after Vice-President Baltar had been shown into D'Anna Biers home/office. Bell, D'Anna's cameraman heard a gun shot ring out. The journalist's coworker ran from the suite's main room, where he had been working in the makeshift Editing Lab they had built.

Bell burst into D'Anna's private office a gun appearing in his own hand as he surveyed the room.

"Frak, D'Anna this is going to take some fixing?"

"Couldn't be helped Bell, the man was mad. He attacked me." D'Anna answered looking at the Vice-Presidents body. Bell joined her.

"Didn't expect you to have a gun, huh. I'm glad you finally took my advice and started carrying it. Look at the surprise on his face."

_Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Gaius screamed and fell to the ground; Six stared in amazement at her disembodied lover. They were in a park that the Cylons were rebuilding. All around them drone Centurions were replanting trees and repairing art works and pavement, damaged in the battle. Caprica Six looked around nervously she was always being watched, sometimes by the Three's. Who she suspected were after evidence to get her Boxed or the others who just wanted to bask in the presence of the 'Great Hero of the Liberation'.

Caprica knelt down, pretending to look at some flowers growing beside the path.

"Gaius what's wrong." She asked quietly. How could something be wrong with the neuroclone? She carried him in her mind, and she felt fine.

Baltar's body went through one more painful looking spasm, then he took a deep shuddering breath and relaxed.

"I just died."

"What!" Caprica looked around herself fearfully, but no one seemed to have heard her outburst.

"You just died? How could you just have died, your look fine." She asked in a more discrete voice.

"Not me, me. The me on the Galactica. I think he just died, was shot actually." Baltar said as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Caprica asked with concern, she knew exactly how disturbing the rebirth process could be, with a normal Cylon. She had no idea how it would work, with an entity like Gaius.

"Yes it was just a shock, his mind was very chaotic. Caprica I think its time we started planning that trip to my old house. I'm going to need a new body, I just hope my safe survived, I don't remember leaving many DNA sample's laying around."

_CIC, Battlestar Galactica._

Tension was high in the Battlestar's Combat Information Center. Every few seconds someone's eye would drift from their post, to study the overhead Dradis display, before they caught themselves and wrenched their attention back to monitoring the mighty ships systems. Admiral William Adama and Colonel Saul Tigh made no effort to hide their rapt attention. They both studied the display as the 14-ships the Battlestar Galactica shepherded. Led by the Battlecruiser Helios the small fleet made its painfully slow run from a Cylon Basestar. Held to the top speed of their slowest member, the Space Park, the Fleet could only manage 9 PLS.

So far they had been running for nearly twenty minutes, while the Basestar had remained in position. Seemingly unaware of the nearly 18,000 desperately fleeing human's.

"Contact!" Tactical Officer Lt. Felix Gaeta called, from his position at the Tactical Station "Multiply contacts, 20 plus Scimitars. "

In space flashes of white light cleared and a mixed squadron of Scimitars and Heavy Raiders appeared, close to were the human Fleet had been when they first sighted the Basestar. The Scimitars instantly orientated on the fleeing ships, forming up around the Heavy Raiders. The Cylon attack group accelerated in pursuit, at 17 PLS the hunters quickly began to close the distance.

"They will enter firing range in six minutes." Tigh called

Gaeta was studying the readout on the Tactical Station's display, watching the new enemy contacts.

"Sir the enemy ships are changing course, not directly following us, it looks like the they are going wide. Aiming to overtake the Fleet on the port side, out of weapons range." The tactical officer reported his findings.

"What the Frak are they doing, they were already heading for our weakest arc. If they attack from anywhere else, they have to come through our broadside." Colonel said after seeing the changes, Gaeta was talking about.

"Unless Galactica is not the target." Adama said turning to Dualla "Get me Helios on the line."

"Aye Sir." P.O. Second Anastasia Dualla answered, before she could begin, a call came through her communication board. "Sir, its Commander Crichton, he asking to speak to you."

The Admiral accepted the handset Dee held out.

"Adama here."

"Hey Admiral, it looks like the Cylons are after my pretty new toys. I hope you have everything under guard. Aeryn will skin me alive, if I let them have anything before I can outfit the Medusa." Crichton's strangely accented voice said.

"Commander Crichton, the Galactica's security is well in hand. What makes you think the Cylons are after you. They could be setting up to make a run on the civilian ships." Adama asked. More than a bit put off by Crichton jocular tone.

"Well they could be. But if they wanted to destroy those ships, I'm sure they could've messed up something vital, when they were tinkering with the Jump drives. Any-who, I'm taking the Helios off for a little spin, we can see if they follow." Crichton said.

"Crichton I don't think that would be wise, you would be uncovering the civilians." Adama said.

"We couldn't hold a perimeter anyway. Not with that Basestar hanging back, they could drop another force on us anytime they like. If we're lucky, the Helios is today's target. We either play this game their way, and win. Or we force them into a full scale assault, which we have no chance at." Crichton answered. Adama could hear orders being given in the background, to bring the Battlecruiser around.

"Crichton! Keep the Helios in position." Adama ordered.

"Sir, the Helios is turning toward the Cylon force and accelerating." Lieutenant Gaeta reported "She's launching her Viper's, they're heading back to the Fleet."

"Crichton! Turn back immediately. That is a direct order." Adama bellowed.

"Sorry Admiral, we seem to be experiencing some communication difficulty's. I will get back to you later." Crichton drawled "Helios out."

"Sir, the Viper's from the Helios are forming up around the civilian ship's. The Helios is accelerating, on a course that will miss the Cylons by 10,000 kilometers astern." Gaeta watched his screens "The Cylons are compensating, they're moving to intercept the Helios."

_Holding Cell, Battlecruiser Helios_

Sharon Valerii jerked in surprise. Startled by a loud clatter and what sounded like a curse, but not in any language she had ever heard, down the hall from her cell. Her guard snapped to attention as Commander Crichton stepped into view, his arms full of equipment, which he was barely keeping hold of. As the bemused Raptor pilot watched a piece, a marines armored shoulder guard it looked like, started to slide off the top of the pile. Before Crichton caught it under his chin.

"At ease Corporal. Open the cell, then report to your Action Station." Commander Crichton ordered.

'Boomer' watched as Commander Crichton maneuvered his way through the door, nearly loosing another piece of equipment, before he managed to get in and dump his armload on the bunk.

"What?" Sharon started to ask.

"Don't just stand there girl, get suited up. We're hunting Wrabbits!"

_Destroyer Griffin. Matock, Redline System_

Captain Jody Yates squeezed past a crewman, on her way into her Destroyers CIC. It was a big room, for the tightly packed ship. 7 meters by 11, but it had been cramped when all it had to hold was her original staff. Now with the dozen extra body's, crammed into every available empty space. Trying to coordinate not only the squadron but also the 14 over-crowded civilian ships, it was down right claustrophobic. It didn't help that they had, had to rip out the computer networks and the crew was forced to run back and forth between stations. Carry paper notes and data cartridges, just to keep the ship running. Like something out of a historical drama.

"Any word on the Trident, Tony." The Griffins Captain asked, as she finally made it to the command podium.

"The new environmental scrubbers are in place, but the engineers are having a hell of a time, trying to get the computers to talk to them." Major Tony Breech the Griffins XO answered. The Trident was a Heavy Cruiser that had managed to join the nine surviving members of Jody's Destroyer Squadron. The ship was a wreck, an old obsolete module of ship, replaced by the far superior Battlecruiser design. It had taken a terrible beating in defense of its doomed Battlestar and Captain Yates had at first planned to scrap her, after they had rescued the 97 survivors.

The Squadron didn't have the resources to repair the ship, nor did the 12 civilian ships help much. Being mostly passenger or cargo hauler the one family owned salvage ship, a decommissioned Fleet tender. And the workshops aboard the rescue ship, Demeter would have been hard pressed to repair the relatively light damage on the destroyers. But they needed the Trident. The Skylla class Destroyer was not designed for long range missions or for running a fleet. They were support ships, designed to work closely with the capital ships of they're Battlestar Group.

When the Holocaust began, BSG 37 had been returning from a deep space training mission, they'd run straight into the Cylon ambush. The only reason the Destroyer squadron, had survived was their lack of ammo. Having used up all most all of their supply's in the training exercise. Admiral Heiad had ordered them to fall back, and Jody had watched in horror as the Battlestar Melcan, Admiral Heiad's flagship and its sister ship the Battlestar Durus, along with the Battlecruiser's Tray, Kleio, Euterpe and Perius had charged into battle, above Sagittaron. Only to die in minutes, as they're own computers had turned against them.

Since then they had been skirting Colonial space Jumping between Redline systems, making what repairs they could and running at the first sight of the Cylons. That Captain Yates believed, was killing her crews. Destroyers were built with only one function in mind and the crews were picked accordingly. Her people were aggressive and offensive minded, by birth and by training. The constant running was a massive blow, to what little morale they had left. The only effective military ship's in the fleet was the Griffin, which had something approaching a combat load of ordinance from emptying the ammo lockers of the rest of the squadron. And the Serenity a hybrid cargo hauler and passenger ship, that had found itself in the middle of one of the most horrendous battlefields of the Holocaust.

The Serenity had jumped away from Caprica, seconds ahead of Cylon missiles. Then, as most of the other civilian ships had. Captain Reynolds had tried to find refuge in the other Colonial home systems, only to find them under attack as well. Serenity's Captain an ex CDF, Master Chief Petty Officer had thought his crew would have a better chance at Lesa. A major Colonial Defense Force supply depot, with three huge Anchorage's moored around a lifeless rock in deep space. Thinking that the Fleet would make a stand there and he could link up with other survivors, what he had found was the wreckage of eight Battlestar Groups. The Anchorage's reduced to rubble and thousands of Vipers drifting in space their electronics dead and their pilots slowly suffocating. Serenity's crew had saved hundreds and watched thousands more die one of a spaceman's worst nightmares.

Now two of the three, huge cargo holds had been converted to flight decks. Clumsy things with no catapults or airlock lifts as yet, but they allowed Vipers to launch and fly CAP. And the 1450-meter long Firebird class seemed to grow a new gun emplacement, built from salvaged Viper canons and missiles, every time Judy saw it.

But the Serenity was no more set up to run a Fleet, than the Griffin, and Captain Yates suspected that the Serenity's crew would object, loudly, to her moving her Flag to the ship. That left the battered Crete class heavy cruiser, as her only hope of sustaining the fleet. Even if it was taking desperately needed resources from every where else, to repair the ship. The Trident, unlike any other ship she had access to, was designed for long-term deployment. If they hadn't been able to get the food processors working, they would all have starved a month after the Holocaust. The same with the water purification system and although old, the ships Dradis and computers were designed to coordinate a task force.

"How long before the engineers, expect The Trident will be ready for use." Captain Yates asked her XO.

"They're hoping to have life support up and running by the end of the day. But its still a least a week away from being a working warship again" Major Breech answered.

"Dradis Contact." The ops officer shouted.

"Action Stations, Action Stations set condition One through out the Fleet." Tony Breech called into his wireless phone set.

"All ships are to jump to Evac. Two immediately. Order Serenity to land her CAP, bring Griffin into position between the contact and the rest of our ships." Captain Judy Yates ordered at nearly the same time.

_CIC, Battlestar Galactica._

"The Cylon strike force is moving in for its Attack." Lt. Gaeta said, all eyes' in the Galactica's CIC turned to watch the Dradis display.

In space. The first wave of Scimitars, barreled in with no attempt at subtlety. Launching a wave of missiles, they dived for the Helios. Rail-guns firing as they closed.

It was a massacre, the ten Scimitars few straight into a blinding storm of missiles, point defense rail-gun fire and the Battlecruiser's main gun-turrets, shotgun like anti-fighter rounds. But the Cylons had come close enough to launch their missiles at a deadly range. The Battlecruiser's point defense gun's desperately swiveled to target the incoming missiles, easily destroying all forty. But turning away from the next wave of ten Scimitars. Again the suicidal machines died in seconds, but their sacrifice had allowed the six Heavy Raiders to penetrate Helios's perimeter.

The Heavy Raider's jinked and swerved madly, as they made the last lunging dash under the Battlecruiser's guns, running their engines to overload. Two were cut to pieces by the point defense. The explosion crippling a third, which spun off course, back into range of the Colonial ships weapon's and was quickly destroyed. But the final three Heavy Raiders survived, plummeting to smash onto Helios's armored hull, in a crash that would have killed anything organic.

The flash of an FTL event washed over the scene, as the giant black form of the Cylon Basestar jumped in. Launching swarms of Scimitars at the Galactica's group. The Cylon ship maneuvered to place itself between the Battlestar and the Battlecruiser cutting them both off from suport.

_Ward room Battlecruiser Helios_

"Sir, the Baseship has jumped in. It's positioning itself between the Helios and the Galactica. We are moving away at flank speed " Captain Siam's voice came over the intercom.

"Alright Bas, spin up our FTL drives. Inform the Galactica that we won't be joining them, when they meet up with the rest of the fleet. Until we have sorted our passengers out. Jump as soon as the Galactica's clear." Crichton replied.

"Aye Sir. Commander, the civilian ships are starting to jump." Captain Siam reported.

"Good to know, give me all hands Captain." Crichton ordered.

"This is Commander Crichton, listen up! Helios has been boarded; we have Centurions on the hull. I wan't everyone suited up and armed, you had all better be already! Because I doubt you'll have time now. They are going to come through the walls and we are going to lose air, At the first sign of trouble pull back. Let the marines do their jobs, defend yourselves and you crewmates, but your job is to get out, not kill Cylons. Report any contact as soon as possible. Crichton out." Crichton put the wireless receiver back in its cradle, on the wall and turned to 'Boomer'.

"Ok Sharon I know I made a bit of a production out of this. But you don't have to come, if you don't feel up to it. This isn't a test." John told her.

Sharon Valerii looked down at the strange rifle, Commander Crichton had handed her. It was longer than the Marine general issue carbines; she had been trained with. It did have the recognizable pieces. All looked slightly different and Crichton had named some of them differently than the instructor at the academy. Instead of a magazine it had a charge cartridge instead of a chamber it had a focusing cell and instead of the two bits of metal you lined up, for sights. It had a computer assist holo-scope.

"Sir this is something I wan't to do." Sharon looked up at Crichton. " I wan't to be Lieutenant Valerii. A Soldier in the CDF but I'm not. That was something they made up. But I am still me. Still Sharon, Still 'Boomer' and if that wasn't exactly who I thought it was. Well I still have my loyalties and my duties and I know which side I'm on! And I really wan't to kill some Cylon's, Sir!" It was a bit awkward snapping to attention in the heavy armor, Commander Crichton had insisted she put on, but Sharon managed.

Outside, on the hull of the Battlecruiser. The six Centurion drones that had survived the crash of their Heavy Raider scrambled toward an air lock. Moving on all fours, looking like giant silver cockroaches, they made good time. They hardly slowed when they reached their goal. The first two to arrive slammed their claw like hands into the near invisible seams running around the airtight, armored hatch and ripped it from the side of the ship.

"The Airlock 9 on deck 15 port forward has been breached, All personnel clear deck 15 port forward repeat. All personnel clear deck 15 port forward."

'Boomer' jogged along behind Private Seran, while Commander Crichton easily kept pace with her. Another Marine; Private Price brought up the rear. The brightly light corridors of the Helios were empty of crew, the four of them were heading for a Marine barricade being set up between airlock 9 and CIC.

Private Seran held up her fist and the group came to a stop. Sharon could hear, even through her environmental suit and armor the steady chop of metal feet on the deck. They sounded like they were coming closer.

"I guess they're not going to CIC. I wonder what there after?" Crichton said.

"I don't care Sir! Fall back! There is no cover here." Private Price ordered.

They ran back too a Y section of corridor; they had just passed and took cover. 'Boomer' ducked into a hatchway and set her rifle aiming toward the oncoming heavy footsteps.

"Fall Auto people they're as fast as all Frak, fire as soon as you see silver." Private Seran called out.

Sharon made sure her rifle was set correctly, only glancing away from the corridor for a split second, but when she looked back up she could see the towering form of a Centurion. Even with her distraction Sharon was the first to open fire. She nearly dropped her gun, when in stead of bullets, bright sparks of red energy exploded out the barrel. She held on and walked her fire, quickly joined by the rest of her group, over the three silver robots. The Centurions stood calmly under the fire their arms going through the smooth transition from claw to gun. But the pulse blasts were doing massive damage to the armored machines. One shot hit a Centurion straight in its eye like scanner, blowing its head clean off, Another Centurion lost both its arms just as its guns became operational. The last Centurion's chest was riddled with fist sized wholes and was starting to burn, before it could get its guns aimed. It slowly slumped to the deck still taking fire.

The armless Cylon drone stood there for a second, as the four defender's concentrated their fire on still whole, through obviously dying Centurion. Before even 'Boomer' could bring her rifle around, it staggered forward, jerking violently. Sharon could hear machine guns firing from behind the Centurion.

As the Cylon fell, its back shredded. All eyes followed it; it was then that two that Centurions, that had just destroyed their companion, rushed into the hall. Their claws already set as guns; they opened fire as soon as they came into sight, spraying rounds down each branch of the Y junction.

'Boomer' jerked back, as the walls around her hatchway erupted. Impact's from the Cylon rounds, showing her in sparks.

"All hands brace for Jump Emergency Jump Now!" The P.A. blared.

Sharon tried to risk catch a glance, but had to flinch back, as the Cylon kept up its relentless fire. She could tell by the sounds that it was advancing. Movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention. Commander Crichton, in the hatchway across from her had dropped his rifle and pulled two large Black Hand guns.

As 'Boomer' watched the Commander dropped to his knees, turned to face the Centurion and let himself fall sideways out into the corridor, brining the pistol's up into line as soon as he cleared the hatch. Sharon was stunned, but before she could think she'd thrown herself out as well, her finger holding the trigger down.

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A/N

(1) Sorry to any Galactica Baltar fans out there. But we will see more of the good doctor, remember LAY DOWN YOUR BURDENS. Season 2 Episode 18. And I think that one's the more interesting character.

(2) Known Cylon Agent Models

Number One: No one knows it's a "Secret".

Number Two: Brother Cavil (Non canon real number unknown, slotted him in here for the story) Priest onboard Galactica.

Number Three: D'Anna Biers the reporter. (Xena Yaa!)

Number Four: Leoben Conoy (Non canon, slotted him in here for the story) the smuggler on Ragnar Anchorage.

Number Five: Aaron Doral the PR rep. marooned on Ragnar Anchorage end of miniseries.

Number Six: Caprica first appeared as Baltar's girlfriend.

Number Seven: Doctor Simon (Non canon, slotted him in here for the story) creepy guy who operated on 'Starbuck' when she was on Cylon occupied Caprica.

Number Eight: Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii

Thought I would answer some questions.

For everybody hoping to see a Scarran Dreadnought or Peacekeeper Command Carrier, sorry to disappoint but there will be no U.T. badies until right at the end. No one knows Crichton and Aeryn are out here, as clones of them are doing their bit for chaos back on Moya. And remember John thinks there might have been some kind of temporal shift, mixed in with the warped Starburst Rovhu used, so the might not have left yet!

The Medusa's a Columbia class Battlestar, non-canon but you see them quite often if you look around the web. They replaced the Galactica class (as yet unnamed) and were just starting to be replaced by the new Mercury Class.

Athena and Helo will make an appearance.

For cjcold2 and Aesop thanks for pointing those out, corps and hangar. Silly and unnecessary mistakes that I hope not to repeat.

Leviathans can't produce translator microbes; they are Peacekeeper tech that is as common as dirt. So unless you're from a complete backwater like Earth, Caprica etc. You have them as part of a standard medical kit and any med. bay worth the name can make them. But the Builder Goo reset Rovhu to pure Leviathan. No examples lying around the Xarai probably ate them or something.


	10. Chapter 10

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 10

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_Battlestar Medusa, Matock, Redline System._

Captain Jody Yates adjusted the collar on her dress uniform, for the third time. She ran a critical eye over her people they were all presentable, in the dress uniforms they had dug out of the deepest recesses of their foot lockers. But the clean and pressed blue/grey material and gold sash's just made her troops look washed out and haggard. The lift finished its descent and the _Griffin's_ Raptor came to rest on the _Battlestar Medusa's_ flight deck. The small ship, which she had used to shuttle over from her Destroyer, was crowded. She'd left her Executive Officer, Major Breech in charge of the _Griffin_, but had brought with her the _Griffin's_ Master Chief and two Marines, to act as an honor guard, her gun-captain, Lieutenant Sydney Macedonia and the _Griffin's _Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Paul Andrews.

The two Marines exited first, they turned sharply to take up station on either side of the Raptor's hatch. Giving it a second, Jody took a deep breath, she had talked to Commander Sun on the wireless over the last few hours, trust had been hard to come by, this would be their first face to face meeting. A meeting-taking place on a Colonial Defense Force Battlestar, something Jody had been convinced a day ago no longer existed. After the Holocaust hope had been very thin for Captain Yates and the motley group of survivors she led. It was all the veteran Captain could do to keep her emotions under control.

Captain Yates stepped out onto the Raptors wing and walked down until she could step onto the flight deck, with two long strides she was facing the dark haired women wearing the winged golden diamonds of a Battlestar Commander.

"Captain Yates, of the _Destroyer Griffin_. Permission to come aboard Sir!" Jody snapped to attention and saluted.

"Permission Granted Captain, Welcome aboard the _Medusa_." Aeryn returned the salute and offered the older women her hand.

Jody shook the hand held out to her, as the crowd of CDF soldiers broke into applause. She took a step to the side and started introducing her officers as they exited from the Raptor.

_Briefing Room, Battlestar Galactica, Unexplored Space._

Lieutenant Mark Usen glanced around the briefing room. It had been less than a week since he had last stood infront of the leaders of the Galactica Fleet. Now he was back, this time thankfuly he was sitting beside Captain Carter and it was the Frigate Captain's turn to answer the questions or at least try to.

"Commander Critchon aboard the _Helios_, sent a burst transmission just before the _Xiphos_ jumped. We have new rendezvous coordinates, which I'm to release as soon as the twelve affected ships have been screened for Cylon agents." Captain Greenbean Carter reported.

"To meet up with the _Helios_ again?" President Roslin asked.

"No ma'am. I have been ordered to report to Colonel Torins on the _Hades_." Captain Carter responded thankful to have something positive to say.

There was a quiet moment as the President, Admiral and their staff's absorbed that. Crichton and his people had saluted in all the right places and paid proper respect to the Lady President. But the _Galactica_ people had had a definite feeling of being on the outside looking in. A big part of that was the other Colonials control of when and where the two fleets would meet. Adama had heard Saul Tigh's report on his conversation with his old friend Greenbean Carter and he had spent time with Commander Crichton himself, even without all the bizarre reports about aliens and new technology he would have felt it prudent to be a bit apprehensive about joining the two fleets.

Laura Roslin was of two minds, on one hand she desperately wanted to see with her own eyes all that the other fleet had managed to save of the colonies on the other hand there was the coming political battle. The Quorum from the Galactica fleet, the Civilian Council from Commander Crichton's fleet and of course her in the middle. The political game was one she played well and one that she enjoyed, but there was so much at stake and her health was betraying her more and more.

"Fleet Admiral, how long until the sweep of the ships with tampered drives is finished?" President Roslin asked Adama.

"At least another 24 hours for a premiere sweep rounding up everyone who co-operatesand and testing them. Then four to five days to search the ships stem to stern, to be sure that no one is hiding. Even with enough R.E. grenades to outfit several teams of Marines it's still a slow process, Those are our biggest ships full of small spaces practically designed to get lost in. All the tests will have to be documented so no one slips through." Fleet Admiral Adama answered.

"So we have five days to prepare the Fleet." President Roslin said looking around at the people she and Adama had gathered. Her staff and the Fleet Admirals top officers including Doctor Cottle barely filled half the small briefing room.

"The press are out for blood, with what few facts we have about Baltar's murder, and so many of their colleges locked up, out of reach on the quarantined ships. A lot of them are panicking. Just about any rumor that you can think of is being picked up and run with as news." Tory Foster the young Piconian women said, she was becoming more at ease with her new position as a presidential aid.

"If they've have come up with anything, even half as frakked up as the truth. I'm buying for the next week." Kara muttered quietly to 'Apollo' Not quitely enough she found as half the room laughed.

"Well what do we tell them, I've been going over what Crichton gave us for hours and I cant make myself believe half of it." Colonel Tigh voice didn't contain half of the normal sarcasm the man could pact into a statement, Laura noted. All of the CDF officers were off their game, more than the civilians. Once she and her people had gotten over the Alien angle, it just became new personalities to work with. For the professional soldiers it seemed to be hitting them harder, every few minutes one of them would get a glazed look in their eyes as they realized another implication of the plans and schematics they had been reading.

"The medical files and blood samples they provided on these Sebacean's are damm convincing. Really there's nothing that couldn't be faked up with a few good labs back on Caprica, or something the Cylons could come up with. But it looks legit, amazing and mind boggling but real." Doctor Cottle stated. The Doctor was nearly, as bad as the soldiers with the information he had been given and he'd contact Billy to arrange an appointment with her. Laura was trying not to think about what that could mean. She suspected that a cancer specialist had made it onto Crichton's Fleet and was not looking forward to another round of being poked and prodded. Just to be told with even greater detail when she was going to die and how much pain she was going to be in.

"Ok. For now we will let the press know the bare facts, as stripped down as possible. No aliens, no man from Earth. As soon as we leave here we head to a press conference and tell them, that as soon as the ships are clear we will be joining up with another group of survivors. Then I want everyone to write up a comprehensive report for Quorum of the Twelve. I'm going to need each representative as on board as possible before we meet the Hades civilian council." President Roslin said, briefly meeting the eyes, of those gathered around her.

_Battlecruiser Helios, Unknown System_

John Crichton watched as Captain Siam and his crew worked to put their ship in order, after the brief battle and boarding action. They had had eight crewman wounded, three more had died before they could get medical attention. Once the Cylon Centurions had gotten inside they had fired on anything that moved, but the robots had thankfully been more interested in racing for the life-support hub, rather than chasing down fleeing crewmembers. The Pulse rifles and pistols he'd designed hadn't been quite as effective as the displaced Earth astronaut had hoped for. The new weapons had out preformed the conventional Colonial small arms, but had fallen short of the one-shot one-kill ideal he'd been aiming for.

That had just been one of problems, another that stood out in Crichton's mind was the crew's response. They had been on the edge of panic the whole time and quite a few had jumped screaming over that edge. The kids of his fleet were just too green, they had the training and bucket loads of motivation, but not the experience and the few dozen seasoned Colonial officers, Xarai and of course one John Crichton couldn't give it to them. That was one of the main reasons for Bo-peep, they needed more experienced CDF people to get the ex-cadets over there first few brushes with battle, otherwise the causalities would just get worse.

Crichton stood on the walkway overlooking the _Helios_ CIC, the view screen now built into the bulkhead toward the bow of the Battlecruiser showed the stylized sun crest of the ship. Crichton and his teams were still working on a way to display space outside in real time on the view screens. At present they were only for communication but Crichton was hoping for something very trekkie in the near future. Three days after the battle and they had all but finished repairs. There was still the crumpled remains of a Heavy Raider wedged under one of the forward 22inch cannon turrets, but there was little the crew could do about that, until the could meet up with one of the support ships. That left the _Helios _with only two of the big guns on the ships blunt arrow shaped head.

The situation the displaced Moyan's had fallen into was grating on John's nerves. When he and Aeryn had sorted themselves out after _Rovhu's_ crash on Cauldron they had found themselves responsible not only for their two blue comrades, but also 1200 plus Xarai Sebacean's who had little memory before waking up on the Builder artifact. Since then they had been forced to take on more and more responsibility and John had been looking forward to dumping some of it on the _Galactica_ leaders. But having met them he could see that he wouldn't be able to just let them take charge. For all their losses they had no idea how big and bad the universe really was, and they had no idea the potential of the upgrades he and his people were introducing to the fleet. That left him doing three of his ten least favorite things, namely politics rating right up there with the Aurora Chair and just below those little umbrella things people insisted on putting in cocktails.

"Sir we're receiving a transmission!" One of the Techs reporting to Captain Siam down in the CIC caught Crichton's attention. The _Helios_ was pretty much in the middle of nowhere with no one in range of the Colonial antiquated radio. That left two options either someone had snuck up on them, in which case he was going to have words with the Dradis operators after Bas Siam got through with them, or the call was coming in from a long way away.

_Command Ship Hades, Rendezvous/Bug-out System._

Colonel Paula Torins IC of the Colonial Marine Corps and second in command of the _Hades_, paced along the central track walkway that ran through the middle of the cavernous bridge of the _Hades_. She'd been in sole command of the Fleet for over three days now and in the main it was going well. The Hades had experienced a few problems with the giant ships first FTL with its rebuilt jump drives. But those where fixed with a few re-calibrations, nothing like the near cataclysm that had resulted when they'd jumped the ship from the Cauldron System to the Nike Anchorage. They'd had to, all but rebuild the _Hades_ drives after its first jump, since sitting abandoned orbiting the Cauldron artifact for fifty years.

No her ships were fine the _Hyperion_ was finished with its repair and refit and now, next to the _Hades_ itself, was the CDF's most combat effective unit, at least on paper. Its Heavy Pulse canons, upgraded drive and defense screen made it an order of magnitude meaner than any Cylon ship they had yet seen. Going over the specs of the new Dreadnought class Battlecruiser Paula knew the _Hyperion_ could engage at least three of the enemy Basestar's and come out victorious. That was if the could find a crew to fight it, at the moment the ship was under the command of the CAG. They simply did not have any officer capable of taking command, or a crew to fly the ship into battle. Several of the older cadets looked promising, but they were too young and too inexperienced to place in command of a ship of that size. The evacuation of Artemis valley Academy had gone off without a hitch until the very end. When the final troop transport filled with the last of the cadets and all of the staff, who had waited until the last to make sure all their charges made it to safety, had been caught by the Cylons as it lifted off.

But that was a problem of long standing, and one she hoped would be addressed by Bo-peep.

No Colonel Torins problem was as always the civilians, as soon as they realized that the Commanders, Crichton and Sun were gone they had started circling like sharks. Even normally level headed and trustworthy individuals like Arthur Perseus the Major in charge of the Colonial Marshal's and Daphne Zurich the head of the labor unions had been pushing for more resources, and flooding her desk with requests. Requests that she knew had been turned down or were in the middle of negotiations by the two Commanders. The others on the Council had been barging in on her whenever she turned around with demand after demand, each more outrageous than the last. Ranging from more food and privileges for Council members to turning complete control of "Assets crucial to the Civilian infrastructure" meaning the Hades, over to their control. Finally she had banned them from the military areas of the ship. She would pay for it later, the politicians always remembered a slight, or an insult and having the annoying parasites thrown from her bridge by her marines had made enemies. They would find some way to get back at her, but for the time being she could work in peace.

Thinking of work brought the tall thin Marine to stand behind Master Chief petty officer Jarin, as she loomed behind the Xarai communications officer she frowned at the Vid display he was working on. Now that the new Com systems were up and running they were working on getting them integrated with the massive Cylon built sub-space Node. That would give them instantaneous communications over an unbelievable range, hundreds of light years at the power levels produced by the Hades huge tylium reactors. A pipe dream of Colonial scientists and administrators was about to become a reality; it would also give them parity with the Cylons. But the new hardware was being difficult they had been hoping to make the first test an hour ago, but all they had produced was a puff of smoke and the vaguely amusing site of Techs and Scientists running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

"How does it look Chief." Paula asked.

"We think we've got it Ma'am, the problem was in these old Cylon buffers. They were never designed for a visual component, we figured since they had such an outrageous capacity they could handle it. I've re-written some of the software and it should hold this time." Jarin didn't look up from his work as he answered. The Cylon's had used the Hades not only as command ship, in constant communication with its fleet, but also as a means of moving whole sentient AI programs, sending the early Cylon's instantly from ship to ship.

"There you go Ma'am, that should do it." Jarin announced, after finishing a last line of code and letting it compile into the system. After a bug check came up clean he turned to the officer.

Paula took a deep breath and looked at the screen infront of her, the ease Crichton, Aeryn Sun and the Xarai handled, talked about and used technology that to her had been science fiction four months ago, sometimes caught her off guard. It was a small twinge, which she ignored.

"Raise the _Helios_ Chief." She ordered trying to dismiss the nagging thought in the back of her head that this was a 'historic moment' and there should at least be a band playing.

"Aye Ma'am." Despite what the Colonel thought Jarin wasn't completely blasé about what was happening. If only because most of what was about to happen was his work and if the new system somehow managed to fry the _Hades_ computer he would probably be blamed.

"Transmitting now, connecting, exchanging security handshake, link is solid." The small screen at Jarin's work station flickered and switched from _Hades_ armored fist inflame to _Helios's_ sun symbol.

"Put it on the big screen Chief." Paula ordered as she moved toward the command podium.

Paula stepped up to the raised platform and gripped the handrail that ran around its edge, as the screen changed again. Now it showed the excited face of a young crewman. The Communication officer of the _Helios_ turned away as soon as the Colonel saw him and Paula heard him shouting across the bridge.

"Sir! It's the _Hades!_" There was a murmur in the background, as the crew of the _Helios_ sorted itself out and then Captain Bas Siam's face filled the screen. He looked ten feet tall on the monitor and Paula had to work hard to keep her face straight as she was presented with the man's giant nostrils. Captain Siam had been a squadron commander hoping to be promoted to CAG of his Battlestar in the next five years, before the Holocaust. Now after his drifting Viper had been picked up by the retreating Fleet he was the Captain of a Battlecruiser. But he was still working on his command presence and he couldn't quite keep a small grin off of his face, as he looked at the stern face of the Hades XO. Shown on the 10ft by 8ft screen covering one bulkhead of his CIC.

"Colonel! Its good to see you." Siam said, causing snickers from off screen.

"You too Captain." There were of course no comments or muffled laugh's from the crew of the _Hades_, no matter how funny some might have thought it. They all knew what would happen to the unlucky culprit, if they broke discipline on Colonel Torins Bridge. Paula allowed herself a small burst of pride at the professionalism of her people. Unfortunately even her authority didn't reach everywhere.

"My Paula! What big eyes you have!" John Crichton would be there at just the right time of course. Colonel Paula Torins winced as the camel's back was broken and the staff of both CIC's erupted into laughter.

_Heavy Cruiser Trident, Matock, Redline System._

"You've done a remarkable job Captain Yates, your people would have had this ship operational in another week even if we hadn't shown up. With the resources you had to work with, it's a miracle." Major Hal Dies commented as he looked around the flight deck of the old Heavy Cruiser. With the extra hands and more importantly the right tools for the job, brought by the _Medusa_. _Trident_ was starting to look like a warship again. The repair crews couldn't do much about the outer armor, but the hull patches were in place and the landing pod extended and retracted on command. Life support was up and running and most of the guns would fire, if they got some ammo for them.

Jody Yates just nodded in answer to the Majors comment. In her mind she took little credit for the work done on the _Trident_. Her people, both from the CDF and the civilians, had worked long and hard on short rations, to accomplish what they had. She didn't need someone coming in at the end, to give her a pat on the back to let her know what a remarkable job they'd done.

Hal withered inside, he saw the carefully blank look the Destroyer Captain was giving him. He knew he was making a complete mess of this, when he had heard that they were due to finish re-pressurizing the _Tridents_ flight deck and that Captain Yates was going to do an inspection tour. To welcome the squadron sent over from the _Serenity_ that was going to be stationed on _the Trident_ from now on, Hal had invited himself along. He had hoped to get to know the women, Jody Yates was what he was being made into, since the Holocaust a line officer leading his crew into battle. Until _Medusa_ had found the Destroyer group Hal had been the senior Navy officer among the Fleets command structure. Paula was a Marine, Aeryn's background was a mix of Special Forces and fighter pilot and Crichton had been civilian.

That had left him representing the vast majority of their forces in theory. But in fact he had mostly regarded the men and women of the CDF as a species apart, one that he had no hope of understanding. Hal Dies had spent his entire career in the Colonial Defense Forces in administration. The closest he had come to what most considered the real CDF, had been his midshipmen year on the Battlestar Athena. And he'd spent most of that working as Admiral Silver's secretary, once his skills with paper work had been seen. Since then he'd served on planet or on the CDF Anchorage's, ship duty was just not something Hal had been exposed to. Over the last three months he had worked hard and to some extent felt that he'd come into his own as Aeryn Sun second and Medusa's XO. But he still had doubts and the chance to talk to and perhaps learn from a 'real' CDF officer had been too good to miss. But the more he tried to talk, the more he seemed to alienate the women.

Jody was having a hard time deciding what to make of the Medusa's XO, for the last few days she had been in dozens of meeting with the man. Both with his Commander and without and he'd come across as a professional and they'd accomplished a great deal together. But since this inspection tour had started, his whole manner had changed and the Destroyer Captain was having a hard time deciding if Hal was a condescending egotistical fool or just really, really bad at asking a women out. And where in the name of the Gods had the Hal Dies she'd worked with gone?

Both officers were relieved as the tour came to an end and they took position on the flight deck waiting for the landings to begin.

_The Trident_ could only support one oversized squadron, 58 Vipers and 3 Raptors were due to arrive; the Crete class Heavy Cruiser was a small ship by modern standards, barely half the size of the Dreadnought class Battlecruiser's that had replaced them in the CDF line of battle. With their off-set portside landing pod making the ships look unbalanced, lack of real ship killing power without the mass driver rifles which were the mainstay of the Colonials anti-capital ship striking force. The Crete's had never been a popular design. But even with its many defects _the Trident_ would make the Destroyer groups civilian fleet's survival a goal to be planned for rather than a wish to be hoped for, even without help from the _Hades _group.

Aeryn thought the ship just looked ugly, like someone had taken a badly drawn picture of her _Medusa_. Ripped off her landing pod's and then as an after thought grafted one back onto the side of her head. The ex-Peacekeeper adjusted the _Sundance's_ throttle again slowing down to keep pace with the Mk VII's of Platinum Squadron.

Aeryn had jumped at the chance to fly in the honor guard escorting the newly named Rogue Squadron from Serenity to its new home onboard the _Trident_. But now she wasn't so sure it had been a good idea, despite how seldom she got a chance to fly since she had taken command of _The Medusa_, this was not the type of flying she'd missed. Keeping to the loose, wide formations favored by the Colonials was child's play compared to lifetime training in the ordered ranks of the Pleisar Regiment. The low speeds she had to maintain however, was boring her to tears.

The _Sundance_, Aeryn's personal fighter, was the prototype for the Series II Viper. Crichton had used it as a test bed to help with the design for the ship he planned to give the Colonials superiority over the Cylons and at least match any enemy's they might encounter in the Uncharted Territories. It had started out as a Mk III, mothballed in a warehouse buried in the Nike Anchorage. From there virtually ever piece of the ship had been rebuilt and redesigned. Mostly hand built by Crichton and his team, it was faster, harder hitting and harder to hit than the production module. To Aeryn it felt like her Sundance was idling as she kept pace with Platinum Squadron and waited for Rogue to form up.

Finally the Vipers from _Serenity_ finished launching and the mass of Vipers, 42 from _The Medusa_ and 58 for the Heavy Cruiser, began their circuit of the Fleet, giving the Civilians a show as they made there way toward the _Trident_.

The small fleet was impressive in its own way, more what the people had indured and accomplished than the ships themselves but the ships were nothing to sneer at.

Nine Skylla class Destroyers, 185-meter long overpowered kinetic rifles fitted with drives and a broadside of cannon, with life support and living quarters squeezed into the gaps in-between, then the whole thing covered in armor. The twelve Civilian ships were a mixed bag; the biggest at just less than 2000 meters was the _Archron_. A decommissioned troop transport from the first war, it had been serving as an anchorage for a mining colony on the edge of explored space when the Holocaust happened. Over five thousand people were living on her and trying to keep the old ship going. The next largest was the 1450-meter long Firebird, _Serenity_. Then came the 1085 meter long cargo ship _0905_ of the Star Carrier company, no doubt their load, millions of tons of wood would be extremely useful at some point and Aeryn was told it added flavor to the gruel produced by the _Tridents_ food processors. Two 650-meter long Flattop cargo ships that had taken off from Aquaria each with several hundred refugees in their holds, which had to be hastily connected to the ships, life-support. The 630-meter long Stone family home, a twenty-year-old ex-CDF fleet tender, a flying general store where the 30 odd members of the Stone clan lived and worked. The 497-meter long _Demeter_ a Colonial Marshal search and rescue ship. Three Intersun Passenger Cruiser's each 252-meters long. Then the Scorpian space-Tug an 80-meter long power plant drives and grapples with a cockpit. Last was the 63-meter long Planet Taxi _Star Runner._

The Vipers paraded past them all, on the way to meet with the Heavy Cruiser.

Captain Jody Yates and Major Hal Dies escorted Commander Aeryn Sun through the _Tridents_ corridors and into the empty pilots briefing room.

"Well I think your civilians are as secure as we can make them. With five of your Destroyers with minimal ordinance the Frigates, _Serenity_ and now _Trident_ at least partially operational, its time to start working on getting you to the _Hades_ fleet." Aeryn stated.

"Even if you drain _Medusa_ and the Frigates dry we still wont have the fuel to reach your people Commander." Captain Yates told the other women.

"So our own analyze surmised Captain, that's why I only mentioned five of your Destroyers the other four your Griffin included will be busy along with the Medusa fixing our problem. Major." Aeryn turned the conversation over the Hal Dies.

Hal inserted a cartridge into the hall projector and turned on.

"Here's what we have so far, if you think of something jump right in Captain."

_Commanders Office, Battlestar Galactica, Unexplored Space._

Bill Adama tiredly rubbed his eyes as Lieutenant. Junior Grade Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson exited his office. While Tigh oversaw the search of the twelve affected ships, trying to dig out any Cylon agents. Adama was conducting his own search. Looking for his missing Raptor pilot Sharon Valerii, trying to dig out the truth. So far it had been slow going.

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A/N

(1)Helios, god called lord of the sun, hence the crest.

(2)The Skylla class Destroyer looks almost identical to the USS Sulaco from the Alien films, smaller though.

(3)Planet Taxi's a dead ringer for a Firefly class medium transport.

(4)Sorry for the delay I'll try to do better.


	11. Chapter 11

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica.Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Chapter 11

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_Life Station, Battlecruiser Helios, Unexplored Space_

Sharon woke up with a start, gasping. She was confused for a second, then she remembered firing one final barrarge into the downed Centurion, with a …… Laser gun? Something had slammed into her back! Pain then darkness as she slipped down into unconsciousness. Now she was here?

She looked around; she was suspended in a tank full of warm blue tinted water. A mask covered her mouth and nose, with a hose leading off out of sight above her head. And she wasn't freaking out, Sharon felt calm and safe; her body ached, as if she had just been through a tough workout. The young pilot thought she should at least be a little concerned at waking up in this predicament. She was naked for the Gods sake, but she couldn't even work up enough embarrassment to blush.

"Hello, I see you're awake. Don't try to talk yet, we'll get you out of the tank in a second. I am Doctor Sheba Cain." A tall brown haired young woman said, attracting 'Boomers' attention. She was working on a set of controls mounted next to the tank. The room they were in looked like a ships Life Station, but Sharon didn't recognize half the machines and apparatus, the strange tank she was in, included. What ever the women did at the controls it started a commotion in the fluid Sharon floated in, and with a gurgle it began drain out from around her.

"There always seems to be some memory loss after the healing process. So I am going to tell you what little information I have on file from when they brought you in, OK?" Doctor Cain waited for a nod from her patient before continuing.

"You were brought in 3 days ago, with a bullet wound to the lower left side of your back. Your armor protected you from most of the damage; the round had lost most of its momentum when it broke the skin. However there was significant shock damage, with deep bruising all over your back and to your internal organs." The Doctor said.

"You were shot by a Cylon. You, Commander Crichton and two Marines, Private Seran and Private Price, were holding a corridor. You had apparently destroyed five of them and were advancing to secure the area. One of the Centurions moved, some kind of electrical spasm, just a twitch. You finished destroying that machine, while you were distracted a sixth Cylon opened fire. Both you and Private Price were wounded before it could be destroyed." The blue fluid finished draining away and the top of the tube slid open. Looking up Sharon saw the welcome sight of Private Seran's face, peering down at her. At least it was someone she'd met.

"How you doing kid." The Marine asked.

"Glub... I mean good thank you Private, but what is this?" The confused Sharon asked. Taking off the breathing mask. As the liquid had drained away, she could feel the unnatural calm leaving her.

"You're in a Goo-lite Tank. They fix you right up, when you get frakked. Here grab my hand, I'm always a bit wobbly after a soak." The women said, holding out her hand.

'Boomer' had just grasped hold of the offered hand, when the floor of the tube started to rise. She staggered slightly, but with Seran's support managed to keep her balance. The bottom of the tube was a lift platform Sharon realized, and it was taking her up into the room above the Life Station.

Seran kept Sharon steady until the platform completed its rise and was level with the new rooms floor, then started handing her cloths. A tee shirt, a tank top and a pair of green fatigue pants.

As Sharon was getting dressed the Doctor bustled into the new room with a nod to Seran she turned to 'Boomer'.

"Now Lieutenant you will be feeling healthily at the moment. But in fact you are still injured, if you will turn around I see about dressing your wound." The tall women said as she strode over to Sharon.

'Boomer' couldn't feel anything more than a slight tightness from her back where the doctor said she had been shot three days ago, she reached around and tried to explore with her fingers. Her probing hand encountered a line of stitches running down her side as soon as she touched it, the area began to sting.

"Stop that! Don't poke at it. You are healing well, give it a day and I will take the stitches out and in a week you will be fit to return to duty. Maybe in your case even sooner we have very poor baseline information about the healing abilities of…" Doctor Cain broke off and cast a guilty glance at the Marine standing next to Sharon and casually watching as Sheba worked taping the large surgical dressing in place.

"Private could you step outside for a minute, just while I explain to Lieutenant Valerii how to care for her wound." Doctor Cain asked.

"Private Seran, knows I'm a Cylon." Sharon said quietly. She had only just met the Marine, but they had been through a life and death battle together. 'Boomer' was already feeling cast adrift, and didn't want to send the only person she knew off. Seran gave the Lieutenant, a reassuring smile.

"I wish people would stop saying that, you are not a Cylon!" Sheba snapped.

"What!" Sharon shrieked barely able to stop herself from blurting, Yes I Am.

"Lieutenant, from what evidence we have gathered you are a clone, you have a network of biomechanical computers spread throughout your system. But take my word for it, as a Doctor. You are one hundred percent human. DNA does not lie." Doctor Cain told the stunned pilot.

Sharon's mind reeled; she had no idea what she was surposed to think. She'd only just started to admit to herself that she was a Cylon. Now this Doctor was telling her … What?

"It's those biomechanical computers that I wanted to talk to you about." Sheba continued not giving Sharon time to think.

"Is something wrong." Seran asked, the Sebacean women giving Sharon a concerned look.

"I seriously doubt it. We have never seen Bacta cause harm, its affects have been universally positive." Doctor Cain answered giving both women a reassuring smile.

"Bacta?" Sharon asked.

"The Healing liquid that aided your recovery, in the tank." Doctor Cain explained.

'Boomer' looked at her Marine escort with a raised eyebrow.

"A lot of the eggheads." The Marine waived at the tall Doctor. "Objected to calling the stuff Goo-lite, so the Commander told them they could call it "Bacta" instead." Seran told her.

"It's a Alien word. The Commander won't explain where it comes from; he just grins whenever one of us asks. But at least it has some dignity, unlike Goo-lite." Sheba finished the explanation.

"Why Goo-lite, why not just Goo?" Sharon asked getting caught up in the strange conversation. Anything to divert herself from the bombshell the doctor had just dropped. She expected a reply from the Doctor, it seemed more her field, but it was the Marine who answered.

"Because that's what this stuff is. It's the lite version, Goo for the peewee leagues. You were in for nearly three days, to stabilize and begin healing, after they sewed you back together. The wounds and bruises are still there, they just got helped past the shock and are well advanced into the healing. If that had been real Goo, with those injury's you wouldn't have a mark on you, one day maybe two, in the stuff and you would've been completely healed." Seran declared.

'Boomer' expected the Doctor to laugh off Seran's ridiculous claims but to her surprise Sheba was nodding.

"If I could have kept you in the tube another few days you wouldn't even have a scar. Bacta is amazing stuff, if we can keep you alive long enough, get you stable and in a Bacta tank then the patient's chances of survival, well its almost one hundred percent. But we don't have the resources to heal everybody all the way and it takes a lot of Bacta to heal a complicated wound like yours." Sheba Cain explained.

"I wanted to talk to you about the biomechanical structures in your system. Before you went in the tank, yours like every other Cylon produced clone I have seen, the structures have been all but invisible. But now they show up quite clearly, on a simple x-ray. We are running tests but all I can tell at the moment is that the Bacta seems to have coated them or changed them somehow. Now that your awake there are several more procedures we can implement to explore your strength and reflexes." Doctor Cain explained, becoming more animated as she spoke.

"Sorry doc. Now that 'Boomers' up and about, I'm to escort her to Commander Crichton." Private Seran told the exited scientist.

Sharon barely had a chance to nod at the Doctor. As the Marine all but dragged her from the Lifestation.

"Sorry kid but once she gets her claws in, the good Doctor will have you doing tests until we send in the troops to pry you loose." Seran told the flustered Raptor pilot once they were safely outside in the hallways.

Sharon stared at the female Marine. Completely nonplused by her friendly tone.

"No matter what Doctor Cain says, I am a Cylon, not human. Why are you being so nice to me." Lieutenant Valerii demanded trying to put a note of command into her voice. The older women just grinned as if she had said something funny, not intimidated at all.

"Come on Lieutenant you don't want to keep the Commander waiting. We have the whole trip ahead of us to swap story's." With that Private Seran strode off down the hallway.

"What trip?" Sharon shouted as she took of after the longer legged women her dignity not helped by having to dodge between crewmembers as she tried to catch up to her guild.

'Boomer' was struck again at how bright and clean the Battlecruiser was, on the Galactica they were always fighting a losing battle against grime. But the Helios was spotless; three days after the ship had been boarded by the Cylons. It was just one more thing to put the Raptor pilot slightly off, making the last week seem surreal.

_CIC, Battlestar Pegasus, Tern System_

Rear Admiral Helena Cain knew it was over, as soon as the Dradis display stabilized. Her Raptors had scouted this system 19 hours ago and found a Cylon resupply depot, guarded by a suspected three squadrons of Scimitar class Raiders and 10 frigate sized patrol ships. A tough fight for the undermanned _Pegasus_, but one she was confident her Battlestar would win with light casualties and minimal damage if her plan worked and the Colonials had the smallest taste of luck.

But as the screen began to light up with icon after icon, all glowing malignant red Helena understood that there would be no luck today. Her half strength Viper squadrons completed their emergency launch and formed up around the _Pegasus_, a small swarm of blue confronting the Cylon forces. Dradis operators started calling out the results from the warbook, but the Rear Admiral hardly listened as they listed the 22 Frigate sized ships 8 squadrons of Scimitars and 4 large unknowns', oversized destroyers or perhaps small cruiser analogs. It didn't matter, her forces were committed this was their last chance, if the _Pegasus_ didn't capture the Depot the Battlestar was finished as a warship and was within weeks of failing as a spaceship.

The _Battlestar Pegasus_ had been in dry dock on the eve of the Holocaust. With half her computers ripped out and in pieces, the Cylon virus had had nothing to infect. So Helena had been able to manually implement a blind jump, saving her ship and crew, when the Scorpian Fleet Shipyards had come under attack. But the _Pegasus_ electronics had taken massive damage from the unbalanced jump, using only one of her three FTL drives had been the only option with one having been pulled by the dock workers to be replaced and the second in pieces for maintenance. Those of her crew who had been onboard, nearly 800 people short of the 2690 compliment, had managed to cobble together a computer to run her ship and rebuild the FTL drives, but they were falling apart. With most of the needed parts beyond the capabilities of even the Mercury class Battlestar's impressive construction facilities.

Helena felt the gaze of her first Officer, Colonel Masters was waiting for her to order the recall, this was not the fight they had planned. With a glance at the forces arrayed against her ship, the Admiral knew she could still win this battle but the chances of getting off lightly were almost non-existent and the chances off capturing the depot intact were nearly as bad. There was no choice through, yes _Pegasus_ could hold long enough for her Vipers to land and retreat with minimal damage and casualties, but it was still the death kell for the last Colonial Battlestar, without the parts in that depot the _Pegasus_ would be useless in a fortnight.

"Bring us around on course for Target Alpha 3. Ahead Flank speed, all guns to fire as they bare." Admiral Cain snapped out, as she turned to face Colonel Masters. Alpha three was the Cylon contact in the center of the formation, of what the warbook had decided were Light Cruisers.

Colonel Masters stared back at the tall women infront of him; he had not served with Rear Admiral Cain long and had 20 years on her. He had been the XO of the _Pegasus_ since the Battlestar had entered service, nearly two-year's ago and had expected to get command when the last commander, Admiral Hastings had retired. It had been a huge blow when instead, Helena Cain the daughter of one of the general staff had been promoted into the position, a position Masters felt he had earned.

"Admiral, the _Pegasus_ is in no state to take on these odds, we have no choice but to withdraw." Hans Masters kept his voice low. But it was a wasted effort; the CIC had gone quite when he hadn't passed on the Admiral's orders.

Helena surpressed a wince, keeping her face as cold and expressionless as possible. This situation had been a nightmare of hers, since she had been placed in command of the _Pegasus_. She knew Masters followed her commands only out of duty to the service. He did not respect her, and fully believed himself better suited to command the Battlestar. She had seen him gather himself a hundred times to argue with one of her orders, only in the end to back down. Helena remembered dreading the day when the man finally grew a backbone. That was before the Holocaust, when she learned what real dread and real nightmares were all about.

"Bring us around on course for Target Alpha 3. Ahead Flank speed, all guns to fire as they bare." Helena repeated looking straight into Colonel Masters eyes, she could have explained her reasoning. But they had talked this though before they had ever jumped into this system, there was no second chance; they had to win this fight.

"Sir we must retreat! We're too outnumbered." Hans Masters stood to attention and locked gazes with the Admiral; he was not going to let a political appointee get them all killed.

"I have given you your orders Colonel Masters." Helena could feel a coldness spread from deep in her stomach, she had played this out in her mind. If it came down to it, would the crew follow her, their Commander who gossip painted as someone who had made her way on her father's reputation and pull. Or the Colonel who had been with them since the _Pegasus_ first cleared dock for her maiden voyage?

"Sir this is a foolhardy endeavor, which we can not offord. I refuse you order Ma'am!" Colonel Hans Masters knew she would back down and was cursing himself for not doing this as soon as they cleared jump after the Holocaust, they needed a real soldier in command.

Rear Admiral Helena Cain watched her XO the man was terrified, for a second she wanted to look around, to look into the eyes of her crew to see what they were thinking. There was no time, they had already been in system nearly a minute if they couldn't get organized soon they would have no choice but to retreat.

"Colonel Masters your side arm." Face expressionless, her eyes cold. Helena Cain held out her hand.

"What!" Hans squawked completely thrown off guard.

"Your side arm Colonel, give it to me now!" Cain barked.

Without truly thinking about what he was doing, the confused man pulled the service automatic from the holster at his side. Hans was just realizing that Admiral Cain was not going to back down, was in fact striping him of his duties, his career was ruined and without his position on _Pegasus_ what would he, could he do how would he survive? His thoughts turning in on themselves, he handed the gun to her.

Keeping her eyes locked with the Colonel's. Helena went through the familiar routine. Seat the pistol firmly into her right hand; flip the small recessed lever from safe to armed with her thumb. Left hand settles along the top slide, gripping there and there, to avoid the action and clear the ejection port, incase there's already a bullet chambered. With a smooth quick jerk, pulling back and releasing the slide mechanism.

Without a second thought Helena brought the pistol up. Hans Masters didn't have time to blink before the shot rang out. The Colonels body had barely hit the floor, Rear Admiral Cain turned to Major Fisk the Flight operations officer and _Pegasus's_ third in Command.

"Bring us around on course for Target Alpha 3. Ahead Flank speed, all guns to fire as they bare." Cold and emotionless barely began to describe the tone of voice.

"Yes Sir." Major Fisk stepped away from his post and into the center of the CIC passing out orders to the crew, as Colonel Masters blood started to spread across the deck.

The Mercury class Battlestar had been in the Cylon held system for one minute twenty three seconds.

_Destroyer Griffin CIC. Matock Redline System_

Jody Yates stood at her command podium. Trying desperately to keep a grin off of her face, it was totally inappropriate and wouldn't be terribly professional. She and her people were going into battle against an enemy of unknown strength; it was time for grim determination not almost childlike glee. But the chance to actually do something, to strike back the feeling was magnificant. Then there were the changes wrought upon _The Griffin_ and her other Destroyers after a week with the Medusa and its mechanic/technicians, machine shops and spare parts.

With half the crew that was once crammed in re-deployed the CIC had a lot more room. The networking had been reinstalled and updated to Moyan standard. With stores from the Battlestar three more of her Destroyers _the Badger_, _Tyrant_ and the _Lord Ramage_ (1) all had a full load of ordinance.

"Ma'am the _Lord Ramage_ is in position, she was the last, all ships signal ready." Major Tony Breech reported to his captain. The Major's voice was nearly smug with his satisfaction at the Destroyer squadron's new situation.

"Excellent Major. Coms, put me through to the _Medusa_!" Captain Yates looked to the new screen that now covered the forward bulkhead of the CIC. It flickered once and the Griffins coat of arms was replaced with the image of the Battlestar _Medusa's_ bridge, Commander Aeryn Sun just turning to face the _Griffins _Captain.

"Commander Sun. All Destroyers are battle ready and formed up on the _Medusa._ The squadron awaits your command." Jody stated.

"Thank you Captain Yates. The civilians are as well set as we can manage. We are as ready as we will ever be. Jump will be in one minute, _Medusa_ out." Commander Sun gave the older women a firm nod and the view screen switched back first to a snake headed women then to the stylized winged lion holding a sword and shield.

Jody thought about the last week as she watched her crew go about their duties. When the Medusa emerged from FTL the small refugee fleet had been reborn. They had been on their last legs with only the dim hope of getting the _Heavy Cruiser Trident_ operational keeping her people going.

The _CDF Griffin_ a Skylla class Destroyer was a state of the art, frontline warship. But her squadron had been without proper maintenance and her people on short rations and water restrictions for months. It wasn't until she had stepped aboard the _Medusa_ that Jody realized how grubby her ship had gotten, despite the best efforts of her crew. Who themselves had looked thin and haggard compared to their compatriots on the Battlestar.

Now her ship and her people had been put to rights. The decks had been scrubbed the uniforms washed and everyone had eaten three good meals a day since they had met up with the _Medusa._ But more than the physical the mental or spiritual health of her crews had skyrocketed. It wasn't very nice, but nothing made Destroyer jocks happier than the chance to blow something up.

_CIC Battlestar Pegasus Tern System_

The deck shook under Helena's feet as the _Pegasus_ took another blow on her thick outer armor. Rear Admiral Cain refused to acknowledge it, she kept her hands locked on the steel bar running around edge of the tactical table and her eyes on the Dradis display above her head.

"FTL event." Shouted one of the crewmen monitoring the long-range sensors.

Helena Cain felt the shout as a blow but didn't pause for a second.

"Recall all Vipers, _The Pegasus_ will jump as soon as they are on board." Already the Rear Admiral was contemplating what she would have to do; there was only one other option to resupply her Battlestar now, even if it would cost Helena her soul. She watched on the Dradis as her Vipers started making emergency landings. Strangely they weren't taking casualties and the overall battle seemed to be slacking off. The attacking Cylon ships were still there still blazing away at her ship with everything they had. But they weren't pressing forward and those Cylon forces that hadn't yet been caught up in the battle were shiftingposition redeploying ... as if?

"Tactical what do you have on the new contacts." Helena Cain suddenly barked. Her eyes lighting up.

"I am sorry Admiral, I can't pin it down. The warbook keeps locking in on false results." The Dradis operator replied working feverishly at his console.

"What results!" Cain ordered.

"Ma'am there's to much interference and we are still finding bugs in the sensor programming." Major Fisk jumped in trying to smooth things out.

"What results" It wasn't a bellow this time, the Rear Admirals voice was calm and collected. The suddenly terrified Petty Officer scrambled to collect the information he had previously disregarded.

"Ma'am according to what we are seeing here, a Columbia class Battlestar and four Skylla class Destroyers just jumped into the system." The Dradis operator reported.

"Ma'am we're receiving a transmission. It's coming in on the Fleet Priority One channel. It's a tactical update." The Junior Lieutenant spoke slowly and clearly from the communications pit. Barely believing what he was saying.

There was silence throughout the _Pegasus's_ CIC, even the sounds of battle seemed muted.

"Put it on the board." Admiral Cain finally ordered.

Rear Admiral Cain watched as the tactical board came to life, her eyes passed over her own ship and the Cylons focusing on the new comers. There! Almost exactly opposite where the _Pegasus_ had entered the system, on the other side of the Cylon depot glowed a group of blue icons. In the center the largest marked CDF _BS Medusa_ BSG 102 AH 003. To the left CDF _DD Griffin_ BSG 37 AH 003 and CDF _DD Badger_ BSG 37 AH 003. To the right CDF _DD Tyrant_ BSG 37 AH 003 and CDF DD _Lord Ramage_ BSG 37 AH 003. Admiral Cain scanned the info tags, the survivors of two groups the 102nd. and 37th. Forming an Ad Hoc unit Battlestar Group 003. The icon for the Battlestar in the middle of the group, _The Medusa_ was decorated with a gold circle indicating it was the Groups flagship.

"Broadcast identify friend or foe." Helena ordered as she studied the Dradis. The new group was charging forward. The Destroyer's looked like they were on a intercept course with _Pegasus_ while the Battlestar dove toward the Cylon outpost.

"We are receiving IFF back from the new contacts. They are in the correct format and register as CDF units, the warbook has no listing for BSG Ad Hoc 003 but since we have been out of touch with command for over a month excepts them as genuine provisional." Major Fisk reported reading the screen over the shoulder of a crewman.

"Major Fisk set course to rendezvous with the destroyers. Set priority for the main guns as keeping the Cylons off that Battlestar until they have secured the depot. I want all Vipers ready to launch when we form up with the destroyers." Maybe today was a lucky day after all; it certainly was starting to look that way.

"Yes Sir!"

The Cylon forces protecting the Tern system depot were in complete disarray. The attack by a single Battlestar had come at a fortuitous time; the station picket had been re-enforced by a convoy on route to set up a base along the expected course of the _Galactica_. The human form Cylons had calculated a good chance of destroying or at least badly damaging and driving away the Mercury class Battlestar. Now a new group of Colonial battleships had attacked and the frigates and light cruisers had already been badly ravaged by the _Pegasus_. Of the four light cruisers one had been destroyed and the others had taken a beating, the frigates had lost nearly half there number having no hope of standing up to a Battlestar's main cannon. Now with enemy forces closing on them from the rear what little tactical plan they had left, fell apart.

The four charging Colonial Destroyers opened up with a torrent of ordinance as soon as they came into range. Each had chosen a target for their single Mass Driver Kinetic Rifles, the main ship killing weapon, that the Skylla class Destroyers were all but built around. The opening salvo from the _Badger, Tyrant_ and _Lord Ramage_ each shattered a franticly turning Cylon frigate, reducing the black diamond shaped ships to a collection of floating debris. While the speeding piece of steel and lead flung by the _Griffin_ speared into the stern of a Cylon light cruiser, that had been maneuvering to fire on the _Pegasus_.

The Cylon Light Cruiser, a single large diamond nearly 400 meters long supporting two smaller arms arcing forward from the main hull, heeled over as one of its engine pods exploded, secondary explosions ravaged the crippled ship. The Cylon line seemed stagger as the Scimitars and Frigates tried to redeploy, trying to bring their weapons to bare on the new threat at their rear. Before they could complete the turn and engage their new enemy a wave of missiles from the Destroyers and the _Medusa_ ripped into the loose formation. Two more Frigates fell out of line burning. Over a hundred and fifty Scimitars with no ECM protection and showing their drives to the targeting systems hunting them, were swatted from space barely having time to see the attacks that killed them.

Hard after the two devastating blows the tight formation of Destroyers plowed into the Cylon forces. One of the two still functioning Light Cruisers had the misfortune to lay directly in the path of the four Colonial warships. Its own weapons focused on the _Pegasus _it had little but its point defense light rail-guns to try and defend itself against the racking broadside of the Destroyers as they sped past at fall flank speed. Each Skylla class Destroyer mounted eight 12inch cannon's per broadside and as the Destroyers passed, one on each compass point they poured fire into the doomed ship. The armor piecing explosive shells smashed into the Cylon ship barely slowed by the armor. Like it had flown through a shredder, the scattered remains of what had once been a Cylon warship tumbled away in the Destroyers wake.

_The Pegasus_ had not been idle while its new allies charged forward. Once all of its Vipers had been recovered the Mercury class Battlestar leapt to meet them. Admiral Cain had tasked the 14, 22inch Turrets with covering the _Medusa's_ assault on the Cylon depot. But they were far from the mighty ships only weapons as she barreled forward the _Pegasus_ swatted Scimitars from space around her and rained destruction down on any of the franticly dodging frigates that dared to challange her. Only six of the massive gun emplacements along the underside of the ship could target the depot and the defensive batteries defending it. Even the Light Cruisers were too nimble to be hit by the huge 22inch shells. But the depot could not dodge and no matter how good the ECM the Cylon base could produce, it did them no good. The _Pegasus's_ gunners already knew the exact co-ordinates they were aiming for, from the scouting Raptors that had preceded them to this system.

As the _Medusa_ plunged toward the Cylons depot the barren rocky plain surrounding the Cylon installation erupted. The missile batteries and gun emplacements the Cylons had built were armored and dug in, but they were never designed to resist an assault from a Battlestar's main guns. Even with only six guns being bought to bare, the rate of fire the state of the art Battlestar's autoloaders could produce was enough to bombard all twenty defensive works before the _Medusa_ came into range. Only one missile battery survived long enough to fire on the smaller Battlestar the dozen anti-fighter missiles were casually brushed aside by the Columbia class's point defense. Then its own turreted cannon answered and the depots last defense was blotted from the small asteroid's surface. _The Medusa_ maneuvered into position above the depot all the time its own missile batteries were firing at the mass of Scimitars engaged with the other Colonial ships.

Up above the battle was winding down. With there anti-capital ship missiles depleted the Scimitars could not penetrate the tough armor protecting the warships they battled against. All they could do was get in close and try for the vulnerable engines; with the five Colonial ships in formation with their point defense over lapping it became a suicide run. With their overwhelming numbers cut down by continual attacks by Colonial missiles and their base under attack the Scimitars doubled back. Making a last desperate bid to defend the depot. Leaving the single Light Cruiser and five surviving Frigates without any fighter support and exposing themselves to continued harassment by the Colonial missiles locked on their exposed drives. The five squadron of Vipers that launched from the _Medusa_ and three from the _Pegasus_ had the surviving Scimitars outnumbered two to one.

Major Hal Dies rode the second of _The Medusa's_ Marine packed Raptors down to the depot to oversee securing the facilities and to start counting the loot.

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A/N

(1) Lord Nicholas Ramage, is the fictional character at the center of a series of sea adventure novels written by Dudley Pope.

(2) The Rolling Stones are the inspiration to the Stone Clan and their rebuilt fleets tender only a cameo at this time.


	12. Chapter 12

Battlestar Farscape

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 12

_Space Park civilian passenger liner, Mess Hall, Temporary CDF Command Post._

"D'Anna Biers?" Tigh kept his voice skeptical. But hey! Why not the frakking reporter, as good a candidate for a Cylon as anybody.

"We're not a hundred percent sure Colonel. But her involvement in Vice-President Baltar's death, and now her own. In a very strange way that doesn't leave us with a body to examine, and she'd raised a lot of suspicion among the Marine testing teams. The way she kept avoiding them Sir." Captain Lee Adama replied, keeping his voice as professional as possible, relations between the Colonel and Lee were not the best. Not since 'Apollo' had put a gun to the mans head and threatened to blow his brains out.

"She fell into the frakking turbines for the _Cloud Nine's_ main life support hub. You have to get past ten different security lockouts just to get into the room, then unbolt and move a frakking heavy safety grill. There's no way this was an accident." Lieutenant Kara Thrace threw in her own opinion. 'Starbuck' wasn't on the best of terms with Tigh either but she didn't give a frak.

Colonel Tigh ignored 'Starbucks' insubordination. The Ace pilot was Adama's pet, and pretty much bulletproof for the small stuff. Given enough time she would mess up something big, that the Old Man couldn't or wouldn't shield her from. And then Tigh could have the screw up thrown in the brig again.

"But was it a Cylon getting out while it still could, destroying the evidence. Or was it murder and someone messed up trying to hide the body." 'Apollo' commented. Obviously an ongoing argument between the pair of _Galactica_ pilots. Tigh jumped in to finish it, if he had to listen to the two snark back and forth again he'd end up decking both of them.

"Either way she's not our problem anymore. It's a job for whoever the Admiral assigns to investigate. The _Cloud Nine_ was the last, so I can report that the damm civy pleasure barges are Cylon free." Tigh hated that there was even a hint of question in his statement. But he knew that if these two disagreed, they were both capable of going over his head. Captain Adama would run straight to the frakking President and 'Starbuck' would probably beat him there, with her complaints to the Old Man.

"We've been over, all twelve of the ships with a fine toothed comb. I haven't done so many EVA's since the academy, if there's still a Cylon on those ships it's a midget that doesn't need air. And the Raptors haven't found anything since that box on the _Botanical Cruiser." _Kara answered. The Raptors from the _Galactica_ had scanned every square inch of the infected ships. They'd found a suitcase sized box hidden near one of the airlocks on the space going green house. It was still being tested but Chief Tyrol hadn't seen anything like it before and thought it was probably Cylon.

"They're as clear as we can make them Colonel." Lee Adama agreed.

_Cylon Depot, Tern System, West quadrant Colonial assault._

"Down!" Master Sargent 'Big Joe' Joseph screamed the word into his suit mike as he threw himself to the rocky surface of the Tern asteroid. The dusty rock erupted in a blitz of Cylon fire; he rolled behind one of the pipes leading off from a near bye warehouse. Taking cover, he franticly looked around checking on the others in Beta platoon. He had three Marines hugging the ground around him and he could see the others had fallen back and taken shelter around the shattered remains of a Dradis tower ten meters back down the street.

Risking a quick glance over the thick vacum armored pipe 'Big Joe' could see the Centurions firing from inside some kind of vehicle hanger while others moved up the street running between two warehouses. Taking in the situation he could see what the 'toasters' where doing if they could keep Beta Platoon pined until the advancing Cent's could close, they could push the Marines back or kill them.

"Gutowski where are you." The Master Sargent barked into the Platoon net Coms.

"Nearly in place 'Big Joe' one minute." Private Gutowski, Beta platoons sniper reported.

"All right Beta platoon you heard him, one minute. PUSH THEM BACK!" On the last shout all nine Marines broke cover and returned fire.

The Centurions didn't scatter and duck like humans would under the same circumstances. The fifteen robots continued the stalking advance both claws configured to guns and blazing away. With thirty meters separating the two forces it came down to a test of accuracy and endurance. At first it looked like an easy win for the humans, as their short controlled bursts of armor piecing rounds riddled the marching machines. While the Centurions, after their first barrage hadn't even come close, had stopped firing until they could shorten the range. But the Marines weren't doing enough damage, a Centurion fell out of line as a lucky shot disabled its left leg, another's right arm went limp, but they kept coming.

"Corporal Job, 'Little Joe', grenades, Kelly 'Cowboy' marksmen." 'Big Joe' ordered as he sent another five rounds into one of the Centurions that was starting to smoke, before dropping down behind the pipe to reload.

With smooth practiced moves Corporal Hacen Job and Private 'Little Joe' Joseph slung their assault rifles and pulled grenades from pouches tethered to their armored hips. As the explosions started along the line of Centurions Privates Jeff 'Cowboy' Morris and Kelly Callahan dropped to one knee switched from semi-auto to single shot. Trying to hit the Cents 'Eye' it was a tough shot with the rugged Marine assault rifles but it was a almost a guaranteed kill if you could manage it.

A Centurion fell, smoke curling around it oddly still in the asteroids nearly non-existent atmosphere, then another and another. Their numbers decreasing the Centurions changed strategy bringing up their guns again, they opened fire on the humans.

"I'm hit!" One of the Marines staggered back, his shoulder blooming red, and slumped down in the dust. Foam spurted from the rent in his armor as it tried to seal the breach and keep the oxygen where it was needed.

"Fisher! get Babra back and see what you can do." 'Big Joe' Looked around the new armor was good, better by far than what they'd had to work with before. It had been built on the _Hades_ and made the Marines look to much like old style centurions for most people to love the things, but they could take a hit and keep a soldier alive that was good enough for Joe. Beta platoon were taking a beating through, Joe had been hit twice in the last minute, nether round had penetrated but they'd nearly knocked him off his feet. This little skirmish had to end soon.

As the medic dragged the injured Marine back two more Centurions fell and 'Big Joe' decided that was enough.

Switching from platoon to regiment channel on the Coms with a still awkward chin switch the Master Sargent gave a new order.

"Go 'Oddball'."

"Coming 'Big Joe' CHARGE!"

With an engine roar audible despite the weak atmosphere a large boxy ground transport burst from between two building's, made a sharp ninety-degree turn and sped down the road towards the battle.

No one ever accused a Colonial Landram of being pretty; their design ran more along the utilitarian lines of a Battlestar rather than the elegance of a Viper. A half-track with armored front wheels. The vehicle was more of a troop transport than a tank, a drivers cabin and a blocky cargo bay. Mounted on top, it carried turreted twin gattling style machine guns. The Landram passed the Marines and bore down on the Cylons.

Two Centurions stood directly in its path. With a nano-second self-diagnostic they both realized they couldn't get out of the way in time, slowed down as they were by battle damage. Both robots concentrated their fire. The Landram's armor sparked as the Cylons armor piecing rounds skidded off it. Leaving streaks of steel and lead on the armored glass of the windscreen. Then they were down, crushed under the big meter diameter wheels then pulverized under the tracks. The Landram pulled up behind the surviving Centurions the turret turning to aim the already spinning gattling guns at the robots.

Four Centurions watched the battle from their post under cover in an equipment sleds hanger. With only six of the Centurions still functioning out in the battle, the holding action they had been ordered to accomplish was failing. With the intrusion by the heavily armed and armored Landram the remaining committed Centurion's would be destroyed, with one mind they decided on a plan. Although their machine guns where of an insufficient caliber to penetrate the Landram's armor, they were not the Centurions only weapons. With a quick spidery motion the Cylons guns reformed into claws, they would rip the intruder apart and their mission would succeed

The first .50 caliber supersonic titanium plated round barely slowed down as it passed through the head of the claw armed Centurion.

Private Gutowski switched targets as fast as he could, watching through the scope of his sniper rifle he tracked from Centurion to Centurion. As soon as the cross hairs showed over silver he gently stroked the trigger accepting the jolt of recoil and moved to the next. As the last of the smashed Centurions in the hanger slumped to the ground he shifted focus to main battle and started scanning.

"OK people funs over we've got to move! The Toasters in there have still got Alpha platoon pinned go go go!" Master Sargent 'Big Joe' Joseph got his battered Platoon moving forward again. The warehouse holding the blocking force of Centurions was at the end of the street barely a minute away.

_CIC, Battlestar Pegasus, Tern System._

Rear Admiral Cain stepped out of her office and surveyed the _Pegasus's_ CIC. In the ten minutes she'd spent talking to Commander Sun and Colonel Yates the body of her former XO had been removed. The only evidence that he ever existed, the freshly scrubbed spot on the deck and the quiet that fell as her crew noticed her entrance.

"Report." Helena all but marched through the silent bridge her back straight, eyes ahead. She'd done what needed to be done and she was dammed if she was going to apologize for it.

"The last of the Scimitars have been destroyed Ma'am, I've ordered our Vipers back in the barn, leaving patrol and CAP duties to the _Medusa_. Our Marines should be launching now" Major Jack Fisk reported.

Helena nodded accepting his judgement, ideally _Pegasus_ would have her own CAP up, but with the loses her Viper squadron had suffered first during the Holocaust and then during the recent battle, it only made sense to let the _Medusa_ take the burden.

"Have the CAG report to me ASAP our Squadrons will be brought up to strength shortly and I want the new pilots and birds to be slotted in neatly without any trouble." Quite deliberately Helena Cain stepped onto the freshly scrubbed spot in the center of the CIC. The Rear Admiral raked the room with her gaze meeting the eyes of the bridge crew. Some flinched away some looked steadily back a few glared, she'd remember those.

"No doubt you are shocked by what happened here, well so I'm I!" Beginning with a firm loud public speaking voice she finished with a near scream.

"A Colonel in the CDF, our CDF! Turned yellow in battle and would have doomed us all. You all must have known what was a stake in this battle there was no second chance either we won and got this Battlestar back into fighting shape, or we would have had to scrap her in a month." Nearly vibrating with anger the Admiral started pacing.

"Hans Masters knew that! But still in the most crucial phase of the battle he chose to question his orders. He put all our lives and the mission at risk and he suffered the consequences." Again Helena looked over her crew few looked terrible accepting but none looked openly mutinous it would have to do.

"Now we have a new mission, Ad Hoc, Battlestar Group 003 is also guarding a group of refugees and are in contact with two others and yet more CDF units. We are back in the war people!" Helena Cain allowed herself a small smile at the cheer the bridge crew gave, it wasn't particularly loud but it was heart felt, she judged. The _Battlestar Pegasus_ had been beaten and had been forced to run, but she was more than ready to repay her tormentors in kind.

One of the communications Techs signaled and the Rear Admiral accepted the handpiece.

"Cain here." The Admiral answered.

"Ma'am Master at Arms I'm at the security center going through the material sent over from the Medusa." The security specialist sounded hesitant.

"Report Sargent." Helena ordered after her briefing from Commander Sun the _Medusa_ sent over pictures of confirmed and suspected Cylon agents.

"Ma'am we have got one." The Master at Arms, the senior NCO on Pegasus was wishing mightily that security didn't fall under his control.

"Well go and pick them up." The Rear Admiral, couldn't understand the man behavior and getting annoyed.

"Sir I have a photo infront of me, it's a perfect likeness for Captain Gina Knight." The Master at Arms finished in a rush.

The world seemed to shift and tilt for Helena Cain, Gina Knight, Captain in the CDF the only person she'd been able to bring along with her from her old command. That she'd gladly used her pull to get made CAG of the _Pegasus._ Someone she'd known for four year. Gina Knight, Helena Cain's best friend.

_Cylon Depot, Tern System, Cylon Command Center._

The Number Two's (Cavil) and Fours (Leoben) in charge of the Tern base were having grave doubts about the utility of their Centurion's. Three hundred rounds of ammunition had sounded like a lot (1), when they had designed the new model troops for the Crusader Fleet. In the historical record, battles usually only lasted 20 minutes and even the most drawn out, barely 2 hours. Three hundred was judged more than enough for that time span and it allowed them to keep everything internal. Eight minutes into the defense of the base when the Centurion's started signaling empty and heading back to their service hanger's to re-load, and being cut to pieces by the Colonial Marines as they turned smartly and marched away, it didn't seem like nearly as much. The claws had also seemed like a good idea at the time. Psychologically damaging to the enemy and in keeping with the new sleeker body. But when the Fours ordered the Centurions to stay at their posts and issued Colonial designed weapons and ammunition, from their stockpile of captured equipment. They proved a poor substitute for fingers when it came to using human manufactured products.

The Human form's debated as they directed the defense of the base. There were only six of them, four Twos that had been the base's command team since before the Liberation when Tern base was originally constructed and two Fours who had been in command of the convoy.

More worrying than the Centurions battle capabilities or lack there off, was the strange sub-space disturbance that was blocking their attempts to call for help and reinforcements.

"If the humans have developed some way to block our sub-space communications we need to get into their computers and disable it." The Four who was in charge of this group of copies said, he was dressed in a conservative blue business suit.

"It isn't jamming! The Colonials have not even started on the theories of sub-space, they cannot detect it, and they certainly not able jam our carrier wave! It's got to be some kind of natural phenomenon." One of the Two's said. He was wearing a priests collar in mockery of some of the other Cylons ridiculous (In his opinion) reliance on religious superstition.

"It doesn't mater if its jamming, or a sun blew up at an inconvenient time, what maters is, if these body's die, which is looking more and more likely. Then so do we and none of the others will know what happened." The other Two tried to calm his copy down and placate the Four's, they'd been left out here on this base since before the war, and were not happy.

"Some of the Scimitars will have jumped. Its part of there basic programming when they decide they've lost the battle and there's no orders to countermand it." The Four, who had been directing the space defense when they'd still had ships, commented.

"The A.I.s controlling Scimitars are little better than the drones in the Centurions. It will just file a report, it could be hours before someone reads it." The Four in the Business suit observed.

"The Battlestar's are gone, they've jumped!" The Four monitoring the Dradis announced.

"We've still got all these Marines all over the place! They've broken into warehouse 12 now and are destroying the Centurions I had in there sniping at their main force." The Four on internal sensors reported throwing a dark look at the Two with the priest's collar. When they'd realized that the Centurions burnt through their ammunition in minutes in full battle mode the Two had suggested they move a few squads into cover and use them as snipers.

It hadn't worked as well as they'd hoped. Although the virtual torrent of fire a Centurion could produce with its two heavy machine guns was devastating, at close range the weapons just didn't have the accuracy for long range work. The Sniping Centurions hadn't managed to cause much in the way of causalities but their attacks had slowed the Marines down.

"It doesn't mater! They served Gods purpose! Order all Centurions to retreat and form a new defensive line around this command center, when they are all in position we will retake the landing bays" The spokesman for the Fours ordered.

"Right! With the Battlestar's gone we can get off this rock in one of the transports." The second Two said, seeing the Fours plan.

"Agreed." The six Cylons placed their hands into the bio-links to the central computer and issued the new commands to the surviving Centurions.

"What is that?" One of the Fours directed the others attention to the Dradis. The Cylons turned their attention to the information coming from the badly damaged system; they could see a fuzzy blob right above the Command Center.

"The systems are all but destroyed. We are lucky we saw the Battlestar's leave." The Cylons studied the readings for a second longer, then went back to issuing instructions to the Centurions.

Outside the building the Marines from the _Pegasus_ finished their rappelled descent from the hovering EMC cloaked Raptors. The Marines had equipped themselves with shaped explosives to force there way into the Command Center, but they were not needed. The Base was a copy of a standard civilian goods transfer point and the airlocks cycled easily with a flick of a switch and the turning of a lock wheel.

When the first one of them was spitted on the end of a bayonet the Number Two had a few moments to wonder if the swords the first war Cylons had carried, were really as funny as they had seemed. Back when they'd been planning the Liberation.

_Cylon Depot, Tern System, Colonial Forces._

Hal ducked reflexively, as bullets sprunged! Against the armor of the Landram he was using as his headquarters, he heard the servo's whine as the vehicle's turret spun to face the new threat, then the deep thrum of the twin gatling-guns firing.

"Major Dies, _Pegasus's_ people report they've captured the enemy command post." Major Shane Hacen, the commander of _Medusas_ marine contingent reported.

Hal looked out of the Landram's armored windscreen at the remains of the battle. There were still Centurions around but they seemed bent, on a steady retreat towards the bases Command Center. Even though the _Pegasus's_ Marines had landed right on top of it and dug in, so the robots were in fact backing towards fixed positions with five crew served heavy machine guns they'd set up. As soon as the Cylons came under fire they took cover or made a break for other, more defensible positions. But by then it was to late, they were trapped between the two Colonial forces.

Hal listened as Major Hacen started ordering the Marines to evacuate the wounded back to the Raptors and start searching the warehouses for left over Centurions. Hal let him do his job; Aeryn hadn't sent him down here to get in the way of the Marines they were the experts at this type of warfare. The XO of the _Medusa_ was over seeing the capture of the Tern base for three reasons.

One, they might need big picture decisions made on the spot about importance of captured material. Aeryn felt that whether or not to blow up a warehouse rather than sending in the Marines to secure it was above Major Hacen's pay grade. Not that he'd destroy something they'd need, just because Marines on the whole liked explosions and didn't enjoy getting shot. Aeryn was more concerned that they would go in no matter what, even if they had an excess of what ever was in there, back on the _Hades_

The second reason was to have a senior officer on site in case, as had in fact happened, the _Medusa_ had to leave for some reason. The _Medusa's_ long range scans had detected an FTL event at the edge of the system. After a quick conference between the Admiral and the Commander, both Battlestar's had jumped out to chase off any Cylons. Leaving the Destroyers to cover the Base and act as their back up, incase they managed to bring whatever was out there to battle.

The Third reason was to make sure the Marines from the two Battlestar's worked together with no friction between the leaders as to who was incharge. As it happened this wasn't needed, the original senior Marine from _Pegasus_ hadn't been onboard during the Holocaust, leaving a Lieutenant in charge. He had followed Major Hacen's orders and his people had followed his.

"What's the verdict Shane?" Hal asked the Marine Major.

"Looks good Major, there are three more area's of resistance and we are moving in on them now 5 minutes until we have this base under control, baring the unforeseen." Major Hacen nodded to his aid, who leaned forward to talk to the Landram's driver. A second later and the armored combat vehicle's engine gunned and they headed off towards one of the areas still in dispute.

Hal grabbed his personal COM and selected a channel.

"This is Command, Ground Expedition come in _Griffin_, put me through to _Griffin_ Actual." As he waited for a response from the destroyer Hal watched through the windscreen as the Landram barreled across the desolate landscape weaving between the buildings of the Cylon depot.

"_Griffin_ receiving you Ground Expedition Command. Wait one for _Griffin_ Actual." The communication officer on the destroyer called back.

"Affirmative _Griffin_." Major Dies answered. As the Landram pulled around a warehouse and started towards a large odd shaped building sprouting gantries and surrounded by the space armored Marines.

"Major this is _Griffin_ actual." Colonel Yates voice came over the Coms.

"Colonel the Marines tell me were coming to end down here. Five minutes aprox. What's the situation up there." Hal asked the Destroyer group leader.

"The _Medusa_ and _Pegasus_ are still searching for the contact. I'll give the cargo transports their orders and get them moving the less time we stay here the better." Jody sounded distracted, no doubt she was waiting eagerly for a report from the Battlestar's.

"Acknowledged we'll be waiting, Ground Expedition out." The Major switch off the hand set and hooked it back in place on his belt.

The two Flattop cargo ships from the civilian fleet would arrive any minute, due to the wonders of Moyan communication. Well 20 minutes to half an hour anyway with time spent relaying the message from the _Trident,_ or the _Destroyer Vanguard_ depending whether or not Captain Harris had finished transferring command of the Fleet to the Heavy Cruiser. Then a least fifteen minutes for the two civilian ships' to get organized and complete their FTL jumps 10 minutes to land. Then they could begin striping this place down to the ground.

_Resurrection Ship 0107, Cylon Galactica Pursuit Fleet._

D'Anna looked over her 'Troops' and tried not the curl her lip in derision. She had campaigned long and hard for this matter to be left to her and her fellow Three's. But Command had had other ideas. She'd managed to get two of her sisters assigned to back her up, but had also been saddled with a motley collection of other models. Two Eight's (Boomer) for military advice, a Four (Leoben) because of their supposed expertise on Colonial civilian ships, a Seven (Simon) to give his opinion on the Humans psychology and a Two (Cavil) because they were busy bodies who always had to stick their noses in where they weren't wanted.

After her horrific and staggeringly painfully death (It had seemed like a good idea at the time) she'd made her report to Command. The Gestalt had been alarmed by what she had to tell it, and had collocated her report with several other pieces of information. It/They had concluded that this newly discovered Colonial force was as big a threat to the Crusader Fleet and to Gods vision as the _Galactica_ Fleet itself. It/They had ordered a top priority set for making sure the two forces didn't combine and for destroying those trying to interfere with Gods plan.

She, as apparently the only agent to make it off the _Galactica_ Fleet with a whole mind, had been placed in Command on the new project. Three Baseship's and a Resurrection Ship were to be assigned, but had yet to be assembled. She'd requested the surviving crew and Hybrid from Baseship _0209_ be assigned to her forces. They had already encountered the Nike system Colonials in battle and fought under the cloud of their sub-space jamming. D'Anna had called this meeting of her Command team to examine the records of _0209's_ disastrous clash with the _Battlestar Medusa_. Hopefully she'd get some idea of what she was up against.

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A/N

(1)This seems to me, to be a very generous number. The design of the new Centurions has never impressed me. It may look cool on TV but I can not help thinking? How many shots can the have? Where are they stored? How do they get reloads? On full auto which is the only way the ever seem to fire, you burn through ammo really quick.

(2)Landram's are from the original series a 50 tank and 50 armored personnel carrier and about 70 pick-up truck but hey! When you play in some else's universe you can't always have the angti-grav main battle tank you want.

(3)I have not found this detailed anywhere. Ranks and the Uses there of, Jody Yates was a Captain in the nautical sense, she's the person in charge of a ship. Unlike say 'Apollo' he's a Captain due to his Rank in the CDF, I'd assumed that the title Commander was reserved for the leading officers on a Battlestar. But reading back over the story its just not going to work, so Jody's a Colonel from now on and I will fix the older chapters in the edit, which isn't due for a long time.


	13. Chapter 13

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 13

_Command Nexus, Baseship 0217, Tern System._

Very few people would have thought this was the bridge of a warship entering possible hostile territory. The room itself was large and airy with a bright high ceiling; wide-open spaces designed to mimic an ancient amphitheater. A raised dais of shallow troughs dominated the stage at the center of the room; each filled with a clear liquid. Surrounded by wide step like benches climbing up to the walls, everything was clinical clean white, except for the crew. Four human form Cylon's stood around the dais, each one had both hands submerged in the troughs. The liquid allowed a direct link between the organic processors in the Cylon's human-form hands and _Baseship 0217's_ central computer. The minute to minute operation of the Baseship was left to the Hybrid, the flood of information generated by the Baseship, being too much for even a hundred Cylons to process.

In their minds the Cylon's poured over the returns from the ships sensors as it moved into orbit around the Tern planetoid, they briefly scanned the field of debris surrounding the small lump of rock, before focusing their attention on the crater where the Tern Depot had once stood.

"They nuked it!" D'Anna stepped back, withdrawing her hands from the interface in disgust.

"There was a small quantity of nuclear munitions stored here, it would have been easy for them to leave one behind and detonate it." The Eight (Sharon) to her right said, also leaving the interface.

"We'll have to do this the hard way then, we need to scan every millimeter of wreckage we need to find those ships data recorders. Order patrols out I doubt they will be back, but I don't want to end up like the _0209_." The Four (Leoben) still at the controls passed on the orders to the Hybrid. The short battle in the Nike system between the _Battlestar Medusa_ and _Baseship 0209_ had impressed all of D'Anna's command staff. None of the Cylons of the Crusader Fleet had ever seen anything like it. The Liberation had been more of a clean up operation than a battle, with the computer virus doing most of the damage. Since then the few clashes with the _Galactica _had been nothing like what they'd seen. The logs they'd studied from the first war had not prepared them for the first hand experiences they'd seen straight from the minds of the _0209's_ crew.

"This is going to take days, the Gestalt ordered us to engage the new Colonial force immediately. What do you hope to find?" The Two (Father Cavil) the last of her team on this Baseship asked.

"I hope to find anything! We don't know where to look for them and the Sixes interrogation of the renegades leaves a lot to be desired. We know little or nothing about what ships they have." D'Anna said. Feeling more than a bit depressed by the constant stream of questions and opinions, she was confronted with any time she gave an order.

"As soon as she found out they had a Hades Command ship, she returned to her Baseship. A good decision I would think, our communication's had to be secured." The Leoben answered. Quick to jump to the defense of his series main allies, among the less religious minded Cylons.

"Leaving her prisoner's in the care of the Centurions, who neglected to provided them with oxygen was less of a good decision, I think." The Sharon copy commented. Smiling when the Leoben scowled.

"Order the _0216_ and the _0218_ to move out and start a high resolution scan of the debris field. Anything of use is to be taken onboard and examined immediately. Information has top priority, but anything of Colonial manufacture could provide us with answers." D'Anna ordered ignoring the by-play between her colleges.

"While we are working on finding out what we are up against, I want scouts of Scimitars checking every system in range. If they find anything they are to report back immediately." D'Anna continued.

"We agree." The other three Cylons chorused, each after a seconds thought and a quick glance between themselves. D'Anna gritted her teeth and said nothing; they all accessed the interface again, to begin their own scans.

From the terraces surrounding them, the off duty crewmembers of _Baseship 0217_ sat or lounged as the mood took them, talking amongst themselves or watching the command team at work.

_Refugee Fleet, Matock, Redline System._

The sixteen civilian ships from the _Pegasus's_ group maneuvered into formation with the twelve that had been with the Destroyers since the Holocaust. This small fleet was slightly different than the other refugee groups, more uniform. Eight of the ships were the same class with the same color scheme. The Caprica Convenient Conveyance or CCC had had an emergency Jump point set up for their fleet of Sumpter class freighter/passenger ships. Of CCC's fifty-six ships only twelve had made it to the rendezvous point and of those, only these eight had survived long enough to join up with _Pegasus_.

The 890-meter long Sumpter class ships were dwarfed by the _Star Queen's_ 1510-meter long bulk, a pleasure liner the _Star Queen_ was a small city in its own right. The _Star Queen_ had been over Gemenon during the Holocaust and before the sailing resort was able to escape, Cylon Scimitars had strafed them. Causing horrific damage to the ship's hull and killing hundreds of passengers and crew. Four Passenger Cruisers' and three Flattops rounded out the rest of _Pegasus's_ group.

Rear Admiral Helena Cain watched as the civilian ships formed up from the co-pilots position of one of _Medusa's_ Raptors. All ready she could see spacesuited figures out on the hulls and spotted the flare of wielding torches. Hundreds of repairs had been put off for lack of spare parts or material. Now with the cargo ships and the two Battlestar's own holds full of loot from the Tern system the scramble was on. Much of what they had captured needed to be rebuilt and adapted before it could be used on the Colonial ships, but a surprising amount was colonial designed Cylon copy's of parts in regular use. Their had even been what appeared to be captured Colonial equipment from theColonies. Helena watched as shuttles converged on the two flattops. The Raptor ferrying her across to the Heavy Cruiser _Trident_ weaved in amongst the civilian traffic, taking the Rear Admiral to where she would meet with Commander Sun. It had been an easy decision, to meet on the neutral ship.

Helena thoughts were inordinately murky; the last day had been one shock after another. Her despair at the beginning of the action at Tern, the confrontation with Hans Masters and then the man's execution by her own hand. Then _Medusa's_ and the Destroyers arrival. They had all come one on top the other, each leaving her less and less time to deal with the next shock. Then things started to get strange. _Pegasus's_ sensors could make little sense of what they were seeing on the other Battlestar. Its EMC had been incredible, without the IFF beacon its doubtful that _Pegasus's_ degraded systems would have even seen it, the _Medusa_ and its destroyer escorts point defense had been at least twice as affective as the best the state of the art Mercury class could manage. When they had gone hunting the FTL event in the outer system the two Battlestar's Dradis had been tied in together, the range and detail the other ship possessed had the _Pegasus's_ operations staff drooling in envy. Then came the information about Gina Knight. The Pegasus's CAG was confined to quarters and under Marine guard, Cain couldn't believe she was a Cylon agent. It was time to get some answers.

_Hades Fleet, Gold Mine System_

The old red star of the Gold Mine System lay five jumps almost directly away from the Nike system, towards Tormented Space and within a single Jump of Cauldron. Here Crichton's Fleet had deployed their two mining ships and it was here that the retreat from the Nike System finished. The Battlecruiser _Helios_ had caught up with them 12 hours ago.

The 11km wide 5km high double disk of The _Hades_ floated above the rocky planetoid where the mining ships had set up. Around the Command ship the rest of the Fleet orbited. The _Hyperion_ took station above the _Hades_ where its quicker deployed Vipers could act in case of trouble. The _Helios_ was patrolling the outer edges of the star system. 25 ships of the civilian squadron clustered around the _Hades_ like chicks around a hen. Each now fully crewed ready to Jump at the first sign of the Cylon's, the relaxed air of the last two months destroyed by the attack on Nike system.

Well away from the _Hades_ formation a flash of brilliant white light heralded the completed FTL of the _Xiphos_, forerunner of the _Galactica_ fleet. Quickly followed by another and another soon dozens of white bursts consumed the area, then the _Galactica_ itself exploded into space.

_C.I.C. Battlestar Galactica. Gold Mine System_

"Report!" Fleet Admiral William Adama called watching the Dradis screen clear and start to update after the FTL. The normal bustle of the Battlestar's CIC buzzed around him, as the civilian ships called in to report their safe arrival.

"All ships are accounted for sir." Lieutenant Felix Gaeta answered from operations.

"Viper CAP is launching." Colonel Saul Tigh's gravelly voice informed Adama.

The Dradis cleared.

"Gods!" Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla swore softly as she took in the size of the contact sitting ahead of the _Galactica_ Fleet

_Crichton's Yacht, Cauldron System._

"What is that?" Sharon asked her friendly guild/guard, looking out the canopy of the luxury Yachts Bridge. They were approaching a mass of girders and ships, the Raptor pilot could easily recognize a Battlestar's flight pod and drive section, but there were dozens of other large pieces of ship strewn about them. A smaller civilian drive section, the hulls of two passenger liners like the _Olympic Carrier_, the striped down framework of at least one flattop cargo ship and something larger that 'Boomer' didn't recognize. A skeletal framework of metal and cables forming a huge rectangle connected them all.

"That used to be the Mercury class Battlestar _Nauru_ a big foundry ship, four passenger liners and a lot of old Cylon Hunter-Killer corvettes and anything else that looked useful. We found the _Nauru_ and the civy ships two weeks after the Holocaust, it looks like they survived the first battle but the Cylons caught up with them, no survivors. The Commander hoped to fix up the _Nauru,_ like the _Hyperion_ but there was just too much damage. A nuke penetrated the head sections armor and vaporized the CIC and most of the living quarters one of the flight pods was completely gutted. We were going to strip it for salvage, when the Commander thought of this." Private Seran gestured out the bridge window.

'Boomer' looked around at the gold appointed fittings of the Yachts Bridge. The pilot/commanding officer of the small ship, Lieutenant 'Prowler' Kreen ignored the two women concentrating on his flying. Sharon had expected at least a sharp word when Private Seran had lead her up here from the stateroom where they bunked, waved 'Boomer' towards the window and flopped down in the command chair. But neither Lieutenant Kreen nor his co-pilot Lieutenant Pournelle had even raised an eyebrow at the Marine Private's actions.

It was just one more strange thing about the Marine, after taking Sharon to Commander Crichton. Who had told her he was sending the ex-_Galactica_ pilot to an out of the way posting until she could work out what she needed to do next, then he'd told Seran to get her settled in on the _Nauru _and left 'Boomer' in the Marines charge. The Private had dragged her all over the _Helios _getting spare uniforms, a toilet kit and new boots. The Quarter Master Sargent she could almost see, Seran was obviously some kind of special aid to Commander Crichton. Although Sharon had never before seen a supply Sargent hand over anything without forms filled out in triplicate. But the _Helios_ Flight Operations officer a senior grade Lieutenant had arranged for the Yachts preflight at her word and 'Prowler' Kreen and his co-pilot had put down their cards and suited up without even checking the Private's orders.

"Soon, less than a month if what I heard is right. This mess is going to be the Mobile Shipyard _Nauru _three dry-docks, a big one capable of building a Mercury Class Battlestar from scratch, with two smaller ones to work on anything up to the size of a Columbia class." Seran said casually watching Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii, the Xarai women's hand laying lightly on the pulse pistol strapped to her thigh.

"That's going to be your new berth. The Commander wants you to organize the Raptor squadrons. But that's not where we're heading just now. Look just below it and to the right. That's our destination_." _

'Boomer' looked where Seran was telling her. At first she couldn't see what the Marine was talking about, but then she realized that one of the stars was too solid looking, too perfectly round, and way too fluorescent blue.

_Heavy Cruiser Trident, Matock, Redline System._

Aeryn replaced the handset in its cradle on the wall and looked through the office window, out into the old ships CIC. The Rear Admiral had just left her Raptor with two of _Pegasus's_ Marine's as escorts, and would be here in five minutes. Aeryn wondered if she would have to kill the women.

It would probably save them some trouble, and it would make Aeryn's life a lot easier. She did not enjoy or have the patience to invent strategies to deal with these provincial humans the way John did. On the other hand it would be useful to have a Colonial Admiral on their side, if it looked at all possible to work with Cain then that would be the best outcome. Aeryn turned to face back into the office, it was the _Tridents_ commanding officers, and since no one had been assigned to run the Heavy Cruiser yet, Aeryn had decided to use it for this meeting.

One of her aids stood unobtrusively behind the desk, waiting to offer drinks and take notes or what ever it was that real aids did. The Xarai wore the uniform of a CDF 'Junior' Lieutenant with the Moyan badges where a Colonial would have had unit flashes.

Before the Holocaust, while John had been working his way though the Colonial planets. Looking for what they would need to repair the _Hades_ and outfit it for the voyage back to the Uncharted Territories. Aeryn had been left in charge of the Xarai first on Cauldron then at the Nike anchorage. The Xarai had been dazed and confused but at least sane, still controlling 1242 people would have been impossible if they hadn't been who and what they were.

Command Carrier bred Sebacean Peacekeepers, with discipline literally bred into them. They'd remembered enough to understand the Sebacean language and speak it slightly. And they'd recognized her and to a lesser extant John as superior officers. By the time all the Xarai had been ferried to Nike system they'd settled down enough for Aeryn to start noticing differences between them. Some had obviously been Techs or Sailors others just screamed Pilot or Trooper. But some had been harder to pick, that is until she saw one of the unknown's get into a fight with a big Trooper and put the women down in one move, Commandos. Not Pleisar Regiment, the attack had been a slashing strike to the chest not a Pantak jab, maybe Ustar Regiment. The differences in training were subtle, but definitely Commandos, they must have been onboard Rovhu to guard Kaarvok.

Aeryn had found 53 of them among the Xarai, although how many there had been before Kaarvok started twinning people was hard to guess. She'd at once started refreshing their training, there were very few times and places where Aeryn wouldn't have welcomed a few other Commandos to back her up. A squad had joined John on Caprica when he'd found the right ship and they'd helped with recruiting the people they needed on Picon, when they didn't want any questions asked. Not as skilled at infiltration as Disrupters but Commandos were trained to support the agents of the Grand Chancellor and knew how to move undetected in foreign societies.

A knock sounded from the hatch and Rear Admiral Helena Cain entered followed by her two Marines.

"Rear Admiral, welcome aboard the _Trident_ not as agreeable as my _Medusa_ would have been. But this old Heavy Cruiser isn't over run with civilians, searching for bits to fix their own ships with." Aeryn greeted the other women first offering a salute then the Colonial forehand grasp.

"Commander Sun thank you. Yes I just made it off the _Pegasus_ before the herd descended. On behalf of the men and women of my ship I want to thank you again for your timely arrival at Tern." Helena let herself be led to a chair next to the desk and watched as Aeryn sat down behind it.

The two women stared at each other for a second, each trying to get the measure of the other. Helena's eyes where drawn to the unfamiliar badge on Aeryn's uniform. She knew every unit flash in the CDF and a stylized M with a smooth red shape infront of it was one she'd never seen before.

"That's the Symbol representing the Moyan group." Aeryn commented following the Admiral's gaze.

"The Moyan group?" Helena asked.

"The … I suppose you would call it a mercenary company that I work for and partially own." Aeryn smiled slightly as she answered, she could feel the Moyan Lieutenant beside her tense slightly.

Helena Cain hissed and slumped back in her chair. Mercenary's! That wasn't what she was expecting.

"You're not CDF?" Cain demanded.

"No I was never a member of the Colonial Defense Forces." For a second Aeryn wanted to spring the Sebacean issue on her, get it all out into the open. But decided to let the women deal with this first.

"Where did you get the _Medusa_?" Cain asked her voice rising

"She was drifting dead in space one Jump out from Picon the virus opened every hatch on her, no survivors. We rebooted the main computer and arranged a lot of burials." Aeryn answered watching the Rear Admiral closely. Cain was still shocked but from the red raising on her checks, she was going to settle down on rage when she got her bearings.

"The Moyan group didn't salvage the _Medusa _until weeks after the Holocaust. We were too busy evacuating the cadets from Artemis Valley Academy to stop for souvenirs." Aeryn drawled trying for 'Crichton level' sarcasm to divert the Admiral, before the women got herself shot.

It worked; Cain calmed and looked suddenly very interested.

"Artemis Valley? Did you get any of the staff out?" Helena Cain blurted before she could stop herself, desperately nearly pleadingly.

Aeryn thought for a moment, studying Cain's change of manner. Then it made sense.

"That little tralk! She could have said something." Aeryn muttered to herself in quitely Sebacean.

"Doctor Sheba Cain is a relative then?" Aeryn commented

"My Daughter." Helena said softly "She survived?"

"She's the Chief Medical Officer on the Battlecruiser _Helios." _Aeryn told her.

Helena Cain nearly fainted, she'd know that Sheba was dead since Holocaust day. She'd grieved with all the others on the _Pegasus_ who had lost some one. For a second she struggled to collect herself, then with ruthless force of will Rear Admiral Cain pulled herself back together, she wasn't here as a mother.

Aeryn watched the play of emotions across the other women's face and was mildly impressed. Still there was no reason to let the advantage slip.

"When the Holocaust hit the Moyan Group was getting a crew together to salvage a Cylon ship, a Hades class Command Baseship we'd found." Aeryn Sun told the Admiral.

Cain's eyes widened in shock.

"What!" The Admirals shout jerked the two Marines from their positions flanking the room's door. The Xarai Commando standing at Aeryn's side took a step away from his Commander, hand resting on the grip of his pistol.

"Yes it's our flagship now we call her the _Hades_. We managed to gather together a number of survivors, nearly 50,000 including a CMC Colonel, a Major in the Colonial Marshal's and Daphne Zurich of Zurich Interplanetary Manufacturing. They all signed off on our salvage right, ownership of our ships. And we entered into a contract with them acting as the de-facto government, to share resources with the CDF and the CMC." With Crichton busy doing Tech stuff and Paula running the military, or more precisely rebuilding the military. It had fallen to Aeryn Sun more often than not, to keep the civvies quiet and although they had learned to fear the ex-Peacekeeper, almost against her will Aeryn had learned a few things about diplomacy.

The tension in the room slowly relaxed again and the Marines moved back to their guard positions. Helena tried to refocus; this interview was going nothing like she planned, but very much like she feared. It was just she'd expected the Battlestar Commander to be Special Operations and use her upgraded _Medusa_ and _Pegasus's_ sad state to throw her off guard and press for more control of the reforming CDF, not bombshells like mercenary groups and salvaged Cylon Command ships.

"Where is the _Hades_ now?" The Admiral asked.

"Quite a few jumps from here Admiral they should be meeting up with the _Galactica_ by now." Aeryn answered.

"_Galactica_? William Adama's ship?" Some one else had survived.

"Yes they actually got more people out than we did. That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you privately about. He's got the President with him." Aeryn voice went a bit angry at this last, she didn't think more politicians could possibly be a good thing. Even if it did get her out of riding herd on the _Hades_ civilian Council

"He has Richard Adar with him? Some of my civilians where over Caprica during the Holocaust. They heard him surrendering from the capital when it was nuked." Helena let a little scorn enter her voice, at the other women trying such a transparent lie and wondered what she hoped to gain from it.

"Not Adar. Her name is Laura Roslin apparently she was a long way down the list of succession, but she's been sworn in. They've even had another election to confirm her in office, and Fleet Admiral Adama supports her." Aeryn smiled slightly when she told Cain, Adama's new rank.

"Laura Roslin? The Secretary of Education? You're kidding!" Helena couldn't remember ever meeting Laura Roslin but she'd heard about her. Her supposed affair with President Adar had done the rounds in the upper brass of the Colonial Fleet. Helena put little faith in it herself; they would have said the same about any mildly attractive women in the cabinet. Then the rest of what Commander Sun said registered.

"Fleet Admiral?" Helena voice was steady now she wasn't going to let the other women rattle her anymore.

"President Roslin promoted him." Aeryn answered the Admiral.

There was too much information, to many things to think about. Right now there were more important topics that needed to be discussed. Rear Admiral Cain would deal with Mercenaries and Presidents when she had time to contemplate them.

"What where those devices you had my men and I tested with when we came onboard?" That had been a nasty shock, exiting her Raptor, she'd been greeted by a Captain Usen (the girl looked barely eighteen and wore the shoulder decorations of _Medusa's_ CAG?) then once they all left the Raptor they'd been surrounded by Marines with rifles covering them. Helena had thought that for a second, it was an assassination attempt, one that would quickly succeed. Then Captain Usen had showed them the R.E. devices explained that they used them as Cylon detectors and demonstrated on herself. Cain had ordered her people to co-operate.

"Your aware of the affects the radiation of the gas giant Ragnar had on Cylons, Admiral?" Aeryn asked. It was a safe bet; it was covered at the Academy.

Helena nodded.

"Well it seems that toward the end of the first war Fleet science were experimenting with it, trying to find a use for it in battle. Those R.E. devices were the best they could do. It was supposed to be a grenade but it's useless, unless you press it right into your target. Thankfully the Human forms are even more vulnerable to them than the mechanical." Aeryn told her.

"These Human Forms, is your intelligence on them one hundred present?" Helena asked thinking about Gina.

"On several, yes we've examined corpses and have been able to find physical evidence. The information about the three females is new; we just received it from _Galactica._ The one calling herself Sharon Valerii we are very sure of, but don't have the evidence to back it up. Shelly Godfrey is harder, she apparently appeared on the _Galactica_ accused their science whiz Gaius Baltar of being a Cylon, their own slower chemical test that they use to check for Cylons indicated that she was one, but was inconclusive. Before she could be checked again she disappeared. D'Anna Biers is even more wooly she acted suspiciously and then died, in a odd way that made it impossible to test her body." Aeryn rattled off the list from memory she'd studied the reports for hours.

"Why are you sure about Sharon Valerii and not the others, did your people do an autopsy?" Helena asked.

"No, it seems that the cover personality is an intact human personality, while they are infiltrating us the Cylon is … well asleep inside bio-computers in the human-form body. When it's activated it wakes up, destroys or consumes the cover personality gaining all their memories. And ready to do its duty to for the greater Cylon glory." Aeryn was giving herself a headache; she hated Tech talk that's why she left all this dren up to Crichton

"Well, that's what Crichton guesses anyway. After talking to Sharon Valerii, the R.E. device fried the Cylon before it could take her over and she survived." Aeryn finished doubtfully it sounded more than a bit off to her, still they would know for sure soon.

Suddenly Cain was on her feet.

"Commander Sun theirs a lot we will need to discuss again, once I've had time to consider what you have said. But right now I believe it in all our best interest if I return to the _Pegasus_ and begin sweeps using the R.E. devices, if you could provide enough to outfit, say a dozen Marines." Helena spoke quickly already moving towards the hatch.

"They were loaded onto your Raptor before you reached this office Admiral, the _Medusa_ has a hold full of the things." Aeryn answered also standing.

Helena was almost out of the room when Commander Sun spoke again.

"So you have got one on _Pegasus_? And you hope you can save the person you know before the Cylon wakes up?" Aeryn's voice came from right behind the Admiral, as the startled women spun to face the office again she realized Sun had followed her and was right up in her face.

Helena took a hasty step back, then cursed herself silently. Retreating again! This interview had gone Aeryn's way from start to finish. Helena had hoped to bring a Battlestar Commander, who had been on her own since the Holocaust back into the fold. Instead the younger women had run rings around her.

"My CAG closely resembles the photo of Shelly Godfrey." Helena admitted.

"Right, let's go then." Aeryn gestured toward the Hatch indicating that Helena should proceed her, and that Aeryn would be accompany the Rear Admiral back to the _Pegasus_.

The two women walked together through the hallways of the old Heavy Cruiser here and there a crewmember would snap to attention and salute the officers as the headed for the lifts. Helena noted with relief that she saw no other Moyan group badges among the people they passed.

"This idea about saving the cover personality is just a theory right no Admiral, Crichton thinks its right but we won't know definitely until we can test it." Aeryn commented as they entered the lifts followed by their guards.

"Crichton?" Aeryn had mentioned the name before. Helena didn't care much about proof, at the moment a chance was better than nothing.

"John Crichton the Commander of the _Hades_ he's the Moyan Groups technical whiz and my fiancée. He's the closest thing we have to an expert on Cylons. And he designed most of the improvements you would have noticed on the _Medusa_." Aeryn answered, allowing herself a small grin at having rattled the other women again.

The lift shot across to the _Tridents_ launch bay Helena remained silent she had a lot to think about.

_Viper Escort, Colonial One, Gold Mine System_

"Holy Frak!" Kara didn't call Louanne 'Kat' Katraine for breaking radio discipline. She'd been just about to say the same thing herself.

The eight Vipers from Blue Squadron had flown escort for the President in _Colonial One _for five minutes, heading from _Galactica_ through the _Hades_ fleet towards the _Hades_ itself. And in all that time the bulk of the ex-Cylon Command ship had loomed larger and larger, the thing was making 'Starbuck' herself pretty nervous she expected the other pilot's to be pissing them selves. But when they passed into the massive shadow cast by the top saucer section even Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace had felt her heart stop for a second.

"All right people keep it slow and steady, follow the beacon straight to hangar one and for frak sake, keep your mind on your flying!" Kara had of course never landed on a Hades class command ship before. She didn't much enjoy doing it the first time with 100,000 people including the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, two Commanders and all her pilots watching.

_Colonial One, on approach to Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

Laura Roslin stood on the gallery deck just below _Colonial One's_ bridge watching as her ship was swallowed by the chasm that was the _Hades_ hanger one. Inside the huge area she could see dozens of other ships moving around. The deck was covered in yellow squares pin pointing lift heads, hundreds sized for Vipers or old style Raiders, but many larger capable of handling ships the size of _Colonial One_ or even bigger.

"Never thought I'd see the inside of one of these things again, certainly not like this." Bill Adama commented from where he was watching, standing beside her.

"War story's Bill?" Laura asked.

"Not a terribly heroic one Madam President, when I was stationed on the _Columbia_ serving under Commander Cain, the Admirals father, we were sent in as back up for the Seventh Fleet when they took one of these monsters on, they'd caught one damaged and without its Basestar escorts. The Seventh was broken, out of twelve Battlestar's only the flagship came out in anything like fighting form and only two others survived at all. But they'd killed the Hades they were after." The Fleet Admiral said looking around the expanse of the hangar.

Captain Lee 'Apollo' Adama listened to the two talk as Colonial one set down on a high lighted lift head. In a few minutes they would have arrived. The _Hades_ fleet and the _Galactica_ fleet would become the Colonial Remnant Fleet. With twice the number of survivors as there'd been two weeks ago, the beginnings of a real Battlestar Group with the extra warships and maybe some real hope for the future if their species.

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A/N

(1) Everyone noticed the special guest stars in Chapter 12 right? Only I was expecting a few comments.

(2) Few terms, Disrupters are Peacekeeper secret agents. And the Grand Chancellor is the guy in charge of Peacekeeper high command.

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	14. Chapter 14

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 14

_Council Chambers, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

John Crichton looked upon his works, and saw that it was good.

Kind of, in a Machiavellian, Mister Burn's sort of way, Strategically speaking.

Well at least they were too busy fighting amongst themselves to bother him, and that was a definite tick in the plus column.

On the minus side while the Quorum of Twelve and the Hades Civilian Council were vaguely amusing, as they took stupidity to new and ever more impressive levels. It still pissed John off to see so much time and talent wasted. Political maneuvers this intricate and pointless hadn't been seen since the Roman senate had voted to increase funding for aqueduct redesign as the Visigoths sacked Rome. It was annoying to see fellow humans bickering back and forth like children, forming little gangs and generally ignoring the Holocaust and pretending their own petty grabs for power were the center of the universe.

Crichton watched as Councilman Meci from the _Hades_ council turned away from the group clustered around Priestess Elosha from the _Galactica_ fleet and stomped off.

Stoker Meci had been rich and powerful back on the Colony's, or that's what he told everyone. The slimy little Rigel want-a-be had secured a position on the Civilian council by way of his small fleet of shuttles and making promises to anybody and everybody. Once the City had come on-line and his shuttles had lost a lot of their importance with their roll of moving food and goods between ships less crucial in peoples lives, Meci had seen his power and his place on the Council in jeopardy. He'd set out to build himself a new one and all but invented the Religious Right from nothing and started a new power base among the minority ultra hard-line Book of Kobol worshipers. Mostly Gemenese refugees who'd been sidelined in the secular Hades fleet. It looked like he wasn't making friends with the Galactica religious types like he'd planed.

Before he could reach his destination, the cocktail bar, his angry stride was derailed when another of _Galactica's_ politico's. Tom Zarek intercepted the little man and started talking.

They'd been at it for over hour now, the twenty main characters, twelve from _Galactica_ and eight from _Hades_. All accompanied by various hangers-on, they circled each other, pouncing when the saw an opportunity, briefly forming alliances only to split up a few minutes later when they thought the saw a better deal.

The sad thing was that Crichton actually liked a couple of the Council members, as individuals. Major Zach Perseus the senior officer of the Colonial Marshal's, Daphne Zurich a billionaire shipping magnet before the Holocaust, now a union boss and Paul Lenders the only career politician they had, the tall thin midnight skinned man, who had been the mayor of his native city on Libris. All decent people on their own. Even Stoker Meci was tolerable if you got him to relax and stop trying to backstab his way to fame and power.

But all together like this in full politician mode, they made Crichton's teeth ache. And when he was trapped in a room with them for any length of time, he started to daydream about opening an airlock and waving cheerfully as they were all sucked out into space.

Crichton stood off to one side with Paula Torins watching the fun. The Marine Colonel was even more distasteful of politicians than her Commander and John had had to spend hours soothing ruffled feathers when he'd gotten back to the _Hades_, after his adventure on the Battlecruiser _Helios_. He'd barely been back onboard his ship five minutes before the Council members had started turning up, demanding Paula's head on a platter. Crichton considered it something of a cosmic joke that of the three top officers of his Fleet, it was Aeryn Sun who handled and was most at ease with the politicians.

A slight stir went through the assembled notables and John shock off his thoughts and looked for the cause.

Laura Roslin had been working the room, moving from group to group sharing a word here and laying a friendly hand on a shoulder there. Not joining any group but rather, letting them join her for a time before moving on to the next conquest. But now the President of the Twelve Colony's of Kobol was making for one of the conference room exits, followed by her young male assistant, leaving the older man and the young women to keep an eye on the various members of the Quorum and Council.

"Looks like we're on Paula, get someone to page Adama then join me." Crichton told his second in command; barely waiting to acknowledge the 'Yes Sir' from Paula, John took off after the President.

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Lieutenant Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii, late of the CDF stared out over the shuttles landing ramp as it finished opening. Revealed was a landscape so bizarre and alien, her eyes had a hard time focusing on any one feature. The great red tinged brown slopes and curves, she was told was an alien space ship, a living alien space ship. Surrounded by the endless expanse of luminous electric blue of the Cauldron artifact, an artificial world made by yet more aliens. A rush of sweet clean fresh air, that strangely held a hint of green growing things, flooded into the shuttle and without thinking Sharon took a deep lung full.

"Come on kid, lets get moving." Seran called as she moved past the immobile Raptor pilot, carrying the large case she'd taken from the Yachts safe. She's an Alien too, 'Boomer' thought in a daze. The thought had a lot more credibility now, standing here than it'd had half hour ago when the other women had told Sharon some of the facts about Commander Crichton's Moyan group.

_Scimitar Gamma 12-0209, Patrol Flight, Tern System._

Gamma 12 cruised along on its indicated patrol route, skirting the edges of the Tern system. The cyborg A.I hybrid controlling the Scimitar raider shifted through sensor readings from DRADIS and the visual analog that served as its eye. Gamma 12 was in its sixth hour of its patrol and was nearing the end of its shift. While most of its cybernetic processing power was devoted to its work, with no contacts to acutely scan it was a mundane and repetitive task, not taxing enough to engage the higher functions of its organic brain. The high level Cylon's had discovered the problem of boredom in their servants soon after completing the first of the new design raiders. Without access to the community of mind that the Human forms had reserved for themselves, which the original fully sentient Cylon Centurions had been part of they quickly lapsed into a fugue state. Seriously degrading their response times and battle skills.

This was corrected in the fully cybernetic Centurions by simply down grading their intelligence, to the point where they didn't need to be occupied and were perfectly content standing in an alcove running system checks until needed. But the Cyborg Ship minds needed all their intelligence intact to operate their Scimitar bodies to their fullest.

What the Human Form Cylons of the Crusader fleet had done was introduce a limited version of the Cylon community, with access to every simulation they could invent.

Gamma 12 while its automatic systems scanned the surrounding space was locked in an intense cyberspace dogfight with Gamma 11 and Gamma 13 its wing mates challenging the Baseship's current flight aces Epsilon 3,4 and 5. A human would have likened it to playing chess by mail. Since Gamma 11 and Gamma 13 were at the extreme range of real time radio contact and the Epsilon patrol group was flying close in support for Baseship _0217_, and wouldn't be in communication range until Gamma was relived and returned to the hangar to refuel. For the survivors of Baseship _0209_ that just made it more interesting.

Half way through a proposed maneuver Gamma 13 dropped out of the simulation and broadcast an alert. Instantly Gamma 12's mind leapt to full battle mode. With a thought its Scimitar body flipped end to end and accelerated towards its wing mate, jump drive spinning up to readiness, 13 reported a FTL event close to its position and changing course to intercept. The beginning of a situation update began and was immediately interrupted by a burst of sub-space white noise, the blast of tightly packed information so compressed that even another Cylon could not make out individual pieces of data, cutting off 13's report. Gamma 13's Scimitar body had been destroyed and its consciousness downloaded to the nearest Resurrection Ship.

Gamma 12 pulled the few intact sensor readings from the partial situation update 13 had managed to send before it had been destroyed. Even as the Scimitar ship mind plotted a jump into Gamma 13's patrol area; it analyzed the enemy and made slight adjustments to its exit coordinates. Gamma 12 reached its top speed of 17 Percent Light Speed, as it was setting the target parameters on it missile load. Activating its jump drive nearly 10 seconds after the destruction of Gamma 13, Gamma 12 disappeared in a flash of intense white.

Gamma 12 burst back into space, firing its missile racks clean even before its DRADIS had stabilized. Throwing itself into a wild series of dodging maneuvers to avoid the expected return fire from the target, the Cylon ship mind was mildly surprised it survived long enough for its sensors to clear, enabling its first solid look at the enemy.

Warbook updated, as the Cylon fighter took stock of the tactical situation, Colonial frigate, a Nautilus class. An anti-fighter specialist, designed for excellent maneuverability 79 meters long with two spinal fitted 7-inch rail-guns, a Broadside of 8, 7-inch cannons mixed with 6 missile batteries, with a 62-piece ½ inch rail-gun point defense suit. Gamma 11's sub-space death call sounded, even as Gamma 12 orientated on the enemy ship. Its second wing mate had exited jump a second after Gamma 12, but closer to the frigate, giving Gamma 12 the time it needed to stabilize its sensors and analyze the situation. In the time it took the CDF frigate to swat Gamma 11 from space, Gamma 12 settled on a course of action.

The enemy ship was showing a massive increase in EM radiation and was obviously seconds away from retreating into a FTL jump. The chances of Gamma 12 destroying or even damaging the massively superior armed and armored frigate were as near to non-existent as made no difference. Gamma 12 began broadcasting its own situation report as it followed the spread of missiles it had launched. The 4 fire and forget ship to ship missiles locked on and sped towards the Nautilus class frigate and Gamma 12 dived in after them, The Colonial war machine turned away from the remains of Gamma 11 and launched its own missiles.

As its four missiles were destroyed by counter-missiles and rail-gun rounds Gamma 12 poured more energy into its engines increasing its speed to 18 PLS. Gamma 12 didn't plan on its Scimitar body surviving long enough to have to worry about burning out the engines. In the split second it took the frigate to lock onto the charging Scimitar, power to engines was cut and re-directed. The Cylons own rail-gun opened up sending a torrent of metal slugs towards to enemy ship. The hardened steel rounds wouldn't even begin to penetrate the frigates armor, but served as cover for the Cylons real attack. Energy no longer needed to power the fighter's engine was shunted straight from the power plant into the transmitter in the Scimitars visual sensor.

As missiles and rail-gun rounds darted in at the Cylon fighter, eating up the last 100 meters, a blood red glow appeared in the Scimitars eye slit and traveled the 35cm's left to right.

Gamma 12 felt a split second of intense pain as Colonial rail-gun rounds stitched a line across its port wing into its main hull. There was no time for pain when the small piece of metal passed through its organic brain. Scimitar Gamma 12-0209 was well on its way to its next resurrection as missiles blew its former body apart, igniting its remaining tylium reserves.

The Nautilus class frigate CDF _Copperhead_ didn't wait around for the last Scimitars remains to finish exploding, as soon as its FTL drives finished spinning up to speed, it jumped.

Space, seconds ago frantic with a savage battle was still and empty save for three tumbling clouds of debris that had been the Scimitars of Gamma patrol group. Nearly a minute passed on the scene then a brilliant FTL flash illuminated the area, dwarfing the exit event of the Colonial frigate, the massive bulk of Baseship _0217_ exploded into space dominating the surrounds like a dark star.

_Private meeting room, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

The two leaders looked at each other. Laura Roslin the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol wore a very expensive and well-tailored suit, it showed off long legs and good looks to their best advantage. John Robert Crichton Junior wore a Moyan modified Colonial Defense Force Commanders uniform, and he thought he looked pretty snazzy in it, as well.

The two were seated in comfortable chairs in a small private room in the Council building built in the center of the civilian city of _Hades_ warehouse number four. Billy Keikeya, President Roslin's Personal Assistant had just finished puttering around serving drinks and stood back out of the way.

"So you're from the thirteenth colony, Commander Crichton, Earth?" Laura Roslin asked. One of the most important issues in her opinion, that she knew would be given little attention once Fleet Admiral Adama arrived.

"Yes ma'am, born and raised." Crichton answered slightly surprised. He understood that this would be a big deal for the Colonials but had thought there would be more important things to talk about first.

"Are you going to lead us there?" Laura pressed leaning forward eagerly.

"Why do you want to go to Earth, madam President?" Crichton asked answering a question with a question. He'd expected this eventually and had put some thought into his answers, given what he knew of Colonial religion and myths. Going to Earth was a big thing with them, problem being Crichton wasn't sure if it would be a good idea.

Laura's answer was interrupted when the rooms hatch opened and Colonel Paula Torins strode in, taking her place at Crichton's right and settling into one of the other two empty seats.

President Roslin had time to think a little, so her first answer to Commander Crichton's question, a shocked cry, had been discarded.

"We have nowhere else to go Commander, our cousins on Earth are our only hope of safe harbor." Laura stated with all the conviction she felt, hoping to sway the Earthman.

"Now that's where we disagree, you have plenty of places to go and Earth wouldn't be much of a safe harbor if you led the Cylon's there." Crichton responded.

Laura Roslin's jumped on that straight away, verbally of course.

"You say 'You' Commander don't you consider yourself one of us?" Laura asked throwing a look at the Marine Colonel, hoping to see how she was taking her bosses statement. Paula Torins returned her look with a cool disinterested flick of the eyes.

"At this time and in this place I'm totally one of you, madam President. But that could change for any number of reasons, landing on Earth would certainly qualify." Crichton told her.

"We can take steps to insure we are not followed and where else would you suggest we go? The Colony's are Cylon territory now and they are rapidly claming this whole area of space. Even in the most optimistic version of your Exodus plan you don't suggest we could wrest our homes back from them." President Roslin argued.

"Space is a very big place madam President, as you will see when you read the more detailed briefing on the Uncharted Territories and Peacekeeper Space." Crichton said "Earth is substantially behind the Colonies technology wise, in a lot of important area's and they have their own issues to deal with. Issues that wouldn't be helped by a fleet of spaceships appearing overhead full of people demanding asylum." Crichton told the intense eyed women sitting across from him.

"What do you mean behind us in Technology? Without the inter-Colony rivalry the Thirteenth Colony would have retained more of the pure Kobolian sciences that we have lost." Laura Roslin was not, or at least had not been before the Holocaust deeply involved in Religious theory and theology. As an educator on secular Caprica she was expected to be somewhat of a skeptic, in public.

But lately, since her cancer and then the Holocaust she'd found herself reading anything she could get her hands on. From the Book of Kobol, the musings of various learned Priests as they contemplated the Gods, scattered with a healthy dose of the writings of the Prophets. Anything to try and make sense of the madness the universe had descended into. One of the few things the assorted sources she could find all agreed on was that Earth was a virtual paradise and their cousins of the Thirteenth tribe stood closer to the Lords as they had left Kobol first, in peace before the troubles drove the rest of humanity away.

"Ah." Crichton grimaced mentally, more stuff the Colonials would be a lot happier not knowing.

"I was hoping to save this conversation for later, you know sometime when we could all use a good laugh. But hey! You can't make an omelet yada yada." John had had more than one problem with this subject in his time with the Colonials. When facts of Earth, the evolution of the human race and the various religions practiced on his home planet, didn't match up with hard-line Kobolian expectations.

Laura Roslin tried to sort though Commander Crichton's contorted speech, looking for some meaning, but the icy feeling in the pit of her stomach overwhelmed her. She knew she wasn't going to like what the strange man said next.

_Command Deck, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

Bill Adama looked about him as his guild led him from the small armored anteroom guarding the lift head and onto the command deck of the _Hades_. The place was huge easily four or five times the size of _Galactica's_, a perfectly circular room as opposed to his Battlestar's more chunky squared off design. He could see what must be over a hundred men and women in CDF uniforms manning the various stations. Spread out in rings of consoles, filling the room.

Lee and Kara exited behind the Fleet Admiral followed by their marine escort, two from _Galactica_ and two from the _Hades_.

William Adama ignored the guilds polite motion to follow him and made his own way towards a flight of steps leading up to what looked like an observation walk bordering the room, the others had no choice but to follow him. Adama bulled his way through, returning salutes and a quick word and introduction with a Major Jorda the third officer of the Hades and IC of the deck in the absence of Commander Crichton and Colonel Torins.

The Fleet Admiral mounted the steps followed by Captain Adama and Lieutenant Thrace before turning and giving a nod to his marines causing them to take up position at the base of the stairway and blocking the advance of their opposite numbers from the _Hades_.

Lee Adama looked down on the _Hades_ CIC standing next to his father. While Kara leaned forward with her hands braced on the safety rail, as if she expected the giant ship to buck under her feet.

"Well?" Adama senior packed a hundred questions into the one word.

"I haven't seen anything that contradicts any of what we have been told. If anything the crews of the _Helios_ and _Xiphos_ understated what they've got here, Sir." 'Apollo' said watching the command staff work at their stations. There were a few monitors and equipment panels that he didn't recognize and the _Galactica's_ CAG was eager to continue the tour and learn more about the amazing ship he'd found himself on.

"The age thing is strange though. Every now and then, when the corridors are full of people in nice clean CDF uniforms just for a second, I think I'm back on the _Atlantis_. Or one of the big Anchorage's before the Holocaust, then I realize that the oldest person I can see is barely eighteen and most are under sixteen or even younger." Lee finished.

Bill nodded, even to him. An old War-horse who had been watching what looked like children enter the ranks of his crew for decades, the youth of the _Hades_ crew was jarring.

Kara turned from the bustle of the Command deck to face the two men.

"The Town was well worth a look, even with their boasting of a City. I was expecting a big empty room full of people sleeping on surplus blankets and cots. But they've built Houses, Apartment buildings, a Theater, Restaurants; those guys with bicycles acting like taxis. Hell I even saw a grungy little bar that had a twin in my old neighborhood in Caprica City. That and the factories." Kara shock her head in shock, it was so completely different from what she'd become used to in the _Galactica_ Fleet. "Well they've certainly had a better time of it than we did since the Holocaust." Kara Thrace didn't hold that against these new survivors, she expected the universe to try and Frack her over, its just the way thing were.

Before Bill Adama could answer the three were interrupted.

"Excuse me, Fleet Admiral." Their guild called from where he stood among the marines. Lieutenant Joel 'Nightlight' Holder, one of the four CAG's who was responsible for the under strength _Hades_ Viper Squadrons. The Lieutenant was holding one hand over his right ear listening to something on his headset.

"Yes Lieutenant." Adama called down to him. Joel 'Nightlight' Holder was one of the few of the Hades crew they'd met who was over twenty. Adama recalled he'd resigned from the CDF before the Holocaust. The Fleet Admiral had noticed the badge of the Moyan group the man wore.

"Sir! Colonel Torins requests you attend a meeting between President Roslin and Commander Crichton, at the City council building at your earliest convenience." Lieutenant Holder reported.

Fleet Admiral Adama winced 'damm that women' Laura had assured him she wouldn't start talking to the Earthman before he got there. That was definitely a conversation that he didn't want happening without his input.

"Of course Lieutenant if you could please lead the way." Adama just hoped that nothing went too wrong before he got there.

_Command Nexus, Baseship 0217, Tern System._

The Model Three known as D'Anna Biers stood in the Command Nexus of her ship watching the smooth running of the Cylon war craft and keeping an eye on her allies. Of her team leaders only the Model Two (Cavil) and Model Eight (Sharon) were standing watch at the moment. Other human forms not in the Command team mostly Fours (Leoben Conoy) and Sevens (Dr. Simon) monitored the ships systems while the Cavil and Sharon copies supervised. D'Anna wasn't quite sure what the Eight's where playing at, there allways seemed to be one around, making a show of how useful their military knowledge was, ready to offer help or advise.

Her Sister Three's half suspected and D'Anna was coming to believe that the Eight's were just like that, eager to put their skills to work. There was no mystery concerning the presence of the Model Two (Cavil) he was on the Command Nexus hoping to see or hear something that could get her removed from leadership of the task force, and of course to hopefully see some humans get killed.

"From Raider Gamma 12-0209's situation report, Gamma patrol encountered a single Colonial frigate a Nautilus class the _Copperhead_. I've started a search through our records, it shouldn't be long before we know where it was stationed before the Liberation." The Sharon copy reported.

"I want that ASAP, 'Eight' we need to know what we are up against." D'Anna replied.

The Cavil copy ran his hand through one of the interface troughs downloading memories of the Scimitar that had survived longest against the Colonial ship. For a second the Model Two Human Form was a Scimitar class Raider.

"Gamma 12-0209 managed to get close enough to attempt to plant a Trace Worm Program." The Model Two grinned this could turn out to be a good day after all.

D'Anna raised an Eyebrow, surprised. That was ether incredible luck or Gamma 12-0209 was well above averagely skilled. The Trace Worm Program didn't have the luxury of a easy back door entry to the Colonial systems like the program that had spearheaded the Liberation. It needed orders of magnitude more power behind it, both in terms of computer processing and transmission. The Trace Worm Program infiltrated the navigation and FTL drive systems and was almost completely dormant not attacking any system in any way deemed hostile to the Colonial virus defenses. It made a few changes to frequency and energy allocation actually making the FTL drives of the infected ship slightly more efficient. It also showed up as a brief beacon point on Cylon sub-space scanners.

The Cylons of the Crusader Fleet had used the Trace Worm Program to great effect on fleeing Colonial ships, during the Liberation finding many who had run. Until that is the Battlecruiser _Helios_ had joined up with the Battlestar _Galactica_ and the Trace Worm reporting from several of the Civilian ships and the _Galactica_ itself, had suddenly disappeared. That thought brought a frown to D'Anna's face, the new Colonial's of the Nike System Fleet must have someway of disabling the Worm, she was about to point that out to the Cavil copy when one of the Sevens still inter-linked into the system spoke up.

"We are detecting a beacon point." The distinguished Libran looking Cylon Human Form announced.

That threw D'Anna for a second, why if they could remove the Worm from other ships wouldn't they protect their own? But she reacted to the information, without letting her questions slow her down.

"Recall all Scimitars from that area of space. 'Eight' find out if we have any patrols in that system, if we do order them to power down. we can not risk scaring them away or tipping them off, that we are tracking them." D'Anna ordered.

"By Your Command."

For once there was no argument and the various Cylons got to work.

_Travel Car en route Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

The internal travel system of the Hades was a mess, Kara Thrace thought. They were finally on a direct run for the Civilian City, but they'd had to transfer between lifts and tube trains three times since they'd left the command deck. And the Viper Pilot knew that Lieutenant Holder was using a override to give them priority and disrupting the efforts of everybody else using the system.

"Even with the Marines, Colonial Marshals, and Civilians filling out the Battle Station positions and Damage Control teams The _Hades_ is hideously undermanned, on some of the duty stations in the lower levels you can do your whole shift without seeing another soul. In the area's where it's still mostly Cylon silver everywhere with none of the new construction, it gets damm spooky." Bill Adama let Lieutenant Holder's voice wash over him without taking much notice, more concentrated on what he'd find when they finally arrived at the meeting between Crichton and Roslin.

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

'Boomer' sighed as Seran led them around another corner and into a corridor that was indistinguishable from the one they'd just left. The two women had been hiking through 'Rovhu' a Leviathan living ship and giant Alien creature for fifteen minutes now. At first Sharon had been fascinated and more than a little scared, but nothing had happened and the décor, an endless reddish brown with splashes of bright red and dull gold with smooth dark metallic floors had grown monotonous fast. After the third of the plain empty rooms they'd walked past they'd lost there appeal as well. The Raptor pilot was beginning to look forward to meeting the Aliens, just for something to do.

Of all the things she'd imagined when she'd been told where they were going, boredom had not been one of them.

"Cheer up Kid, nearly there." Seran said "Another minute and we will be on the main level thoroughfare."

The Privates voice startled Sharon and she nearly stumbled, turning to look at the older women. The Marine had been quiet and moody since they'd climbed down through the first hatch into the giant ship. Her one-word answers and non-committal grunts had quickly discouraged the flood of questions 'Boomer' had started out with. The way her hand had leaped to the large pistol strapped to her thigh at the least little sound, worried Sharon a bit too.

"You seem in a better mood, Private Seran." Sharon commented.

"I'm not very keen on this ship and it doesn't like me much ether." Seran told her. Seran's voice was serious but she was smiling, so Sharon wasn't quiet sure how to take that. Normally she would have thought the other woman was joking, but with what Sharon had been told about Rovhu, well she wasn't sure.

"But after we meet up with the bosses and we take care of some business, we'll have some down time. I'll introduce you to a friend of mine, Lieutenant Clara Tores she's a Moyan like us, but a Colonial from Caprica. You'll like her, most people do." Seran finished.

Sharon Valerii thought about that as the reached the end of the corridor and Seran led the way into a alcove and started climbing down a ladder set into the wall.

"Why aren't you keen on this place?" 'Boomer' asked as they started down yet another corridor, this one more brightly lit with the red and gold in more evidence and it seemed slightly wider, than those they'd used before.

Seran threw the younger women a look, as if weighing her words.

"I don't remember much from before I woke up here, with Officer Sun and Commander Crichton looking out for us." Seran stopped and adjusted her grip on the big metal suitcase she carried. It was obvious to Sharon that the move was to give herself a second to think, since she'd been carrying the thing the whole trip with no problems even negotiating the ladders with it balanced easily in one hand.

"What I mostly remember is this place and fear and hunger and then some more fear, its not a good place for the Xarai." Seran took off again moving at a quicker pace, causing Sharon to jog a few steps to catch up.

"Anyway while it was a pretty crappy time for me and the other Xarai, it was no fun for Rovhu or his Pilot ether. We have a lot baggage between us and none of us are terrible comfortable whenever we're around each other. It was a bad time, Hell most Xarai don't much like being around each other for long, it stirs up old bad memories that we'd all rather forget." Here Seran made a sharp turn around another corner.

"Ok Kid this is it, down there's Pilots Den. That's where they'll be waiting for us. You ready for this?" Seran gestured ahead and stopped turning to face Sharon again.

Sharon wondered about that as well. When she'd resigned from the CDF she'd been on the brink of depression still half determined to kill herself when she got the chance. Commander Crichton's offer to join his Moyan group had seemed like a brilliant idea. She'd still get to help her people and fly and this time she'd be part of something with no false pretenses. And hey! if she felt like it she could always kill herself later.

Then things had gotten strange. The human mind in a Cylon cloned and enhanced body snorted quietly to herself, but is was true. For all that she'd been nice and friendly 'Boomer' had seen Seran's hand drift towards her Pistol every now and again. The Raptor pilot had no doubt that if she put a foot out of place the other women would kill her without a second's hesitation.

Which was at least sense, she'd have ordered the same if she'd been in Commander Crichton's position. But then the talk of Aliens had started, when Seran had told her that she, Seran herself was an Alien of a species called Sebacean, Sharon's whole world began to rock, again. Just days after the revaluation about her Cylon origin, it seemed like some ridiculous joke the older women looked human and her sudden strange turn had hurt Sharon deeply. But Seran had offered proof and this ship Rovhu and the bizarre planet he rested on seemed to confirm everything.

Now they would meet more Aliens ones that Seran assured her looked the part and then there was the other thing. The 'business' Seran kept hinting at, that would prove once and for all if she was free off Cylon influence. That was something 'Boomer' both longed for and dreaded, the chance to find out if she was really who she thought she was, or if it this was all some Cylon plot.

"Yes, I'm ready." Lieutenant Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii answered her friend/executioner.

"Lets go." Sharon led the way towards the large arch shaped hatch Seran had waved to.

_Command Nexus, Baseship 0217, Tern System._

Though not a word was said and no noise broke the silence except the gentle splashing as the Human Forms manipulated the liquid inter-links, the command Nexus of Baseship _0217_ radiated energy and a sense of anticipation.

D'Anna slowly withdrew he consciousness from the inter-link, where she had been closely watching the FTL sensors for the last thirty minutes along with the rest of her command team. The Cylons had been tracking the Colonial Frigate _Copperhead_ as it had preformed a series of Jumps away from the Tern System, where the Baseship was now stationed investigating the destruction of one of their depots.

"It's been in that system for over half an hour, that's where they're based." Proclaimed the Model Two as he joined her in the real world.

"We'll give it another few minutes, but I think your right." D'Anna admitted as the rest of her team extracted themselves from the inter-link. Both the Eight wearing a CDF uniform with all the markings removed and the Four dressed in his faux tramp trader get-up looked dubious at this. Both the spaceship experts could probably think of dozens of reasons for the Frigate to stay in that particular system for this length of time or longer, reasons that had nothing to do with where its base was.

D'Anna understood that, but dismissed the 'Sharon' and 'Leoben's' copy's worries. She knew the humans were there, she could practically taste it. It was an exhilarating feeling, one that she hadn't had since her time as a reporter back on Caprica, before the Liberation. But the same instinct that made her positive they'd found the _Copperhead's_ base warned that the Cylons didn't yet have all the information they needed.

D'Anna was still bothered by the Trace Worm Program working on the _Copperhead_ at all. It made no sense, why wouldn't they defend their own ships against Cylon Worms and Virus's if they could remove them from the _Galactica's_ fleet within minutes of making contact.

The Model Three turned to her advisor/crew.

"Sharon you Leoben and Three." Nodding to one of her Sisters D'Anna continued giving orders "Brief a patrol of Scimitars to scout out that system. I want them undetectable by our best estimates of the new Colonials sensors, arrange that anyway you like."

D'Anna next turned to the other Eight and the Simon Copy they'd been researching the _Copperhead_ from before the Liberation.

The Sharon copy Model Eight started the report.

"The CDF _Copperhead_, a Nautilus class frigate was part of BSG 83 along with eleven other Nautilus class frigates two Dreadnought class Battlecruiser's and the Battlestar's _Reliant_ _Choice_ and _Pride of Virgon_. BSG 83 was reported destroyed in the battles around Colonial Fleet Headquarters over Picon. We dispatched a patrol of Scimitars and a Heavy Raider to scan the battlefield, they have yet to find much evidence one way or the other, though they have confirmed the presence of the Battlestar _Reliant Choice's_ wreck." The Model Eight paused and turned their short presentation over to the Model Seven.

"We don't have the memories of the Battle here, we have dispatched a courier to Caprica to get more information. The Summary we do have indicates that the Virus worked perfectly on BSG 83. All units were disabled with numerous malfunctions including drive failure, airlocks opening and a complete loss of active electronic emissions. Our forces emptied their missile tubes to make sure of the two most dangerous opponents, the Battlestar's and moved on towards Colonial Fleet Headquarters where the battle was still in progress." The Seven (Dr. Simon) made a small gesture with his hands indicating that that's was all the information he had.

"So we could be facing an entire intact Battlestar group the _Medusa_ backed up by BSG 83 minus the _Reliant Choice_." D'Anna asked.

"Its possible, but we think it unlikely. The chances of a few Frigates escaping are bad but it could happen, a Battlecruiser's are worse and a Battlestar leaving the battle unobserved is considered the next best thing to impossible. _Medusa_ jumped when it was confirmed to be heavily infected, seconds away from massive systems failure. That was obviously a mistake by the crew of Baseship _0159_ but it was reported." The Sharon copy answered.

D'Anna dismissed the two Human Forms, they'd get a better idea of what they were facing when they scouted the enemy. Thinking of that she turned to the last of her command team (The Cavil) Model Two and the other of her Sister Modal Threes.

"What do we know about the Star System they have run to." D'Anna prompted.

"It's a lot closer to the Colonial core systems and our main base on Caprica than I would have guessed." Cavil advised he was about to say more when the Three standing next to him interrupted.

"Its well within the Redline, but the system is a pit. The humans have never used it for anything. We can find no record of them ever having a presence there." The Three continued.

D'Anna ignored them, as the Model Two and Three exchanged glares it was all pointless until the Cylons looked for themselves there could be a dozen Colonial Fleets or the Frigate could be on its own. But there were a few steps she wanted to take to get her forces organized.

"I want you two to go back to Caprica and report to the Gestalt." That grabbed their attention D'Anna noted with a wry smile.

"What! We have our orders, the Gestalt directed us to destroy the Battlestar _Medusa_ and any other Colonials from the Nike System." Cavil argued.

"I know what our orders are!" D'Anna added her glare to her Sister Three's for a second before calming down.

"After seeing what the _Medusa_ did to the _0209_ and now the rubble they've left here of our Tern depot and the very well guarded convoy that supported it. I believe the Cylon race would be best served if we had a few more ships on hand when we take these Nike System Colonials on. I also want you to check on the progress of the Interdiction platforms, if they are ready for deployment a few could be very useful in cornering these Colonials." D'Anna explained.

"I want you to report to the Gestalt and see what re-enforcement's you can get." D'Anna waited as the Cavil thought this though, before he finally nodding to her.

"By Your Command."

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

Fleet Admiral Adama and his entourage made their way through the throng in the convention hall, heading for the meeting between Commander Crichton and President Roslin. Lieutenant Holder shepherded his charges unhindered amongst the circling politicians, although a few from the _Galactica_ Fleet made aborted attempts to intercept Adama, the Lieutenant's determined pace seemed to deter them.

Finally they made it to the discreet side door that led to the private rooms and filed through.

William Adama felt his heart sink when he entered the small meeting room. President Roslin and Commander Crichton sat across from each other in comfortable easy chairs, Billy Keikeya stood unobtrusively in one corner and a tall thin older woman with classic Tauronese features who Adama recognized as Colonel Torins from the welcoming ceremony sat next to Commander Crichton. The atmosphere between the two leaders could be called strained, by an optimist. Laura Roslin was all but glaring at John Crichton, who appeared to be ignoring the President of Twelve Colonies of Kobol while he fiddled with some kind of circular disk he held in his hand.

Laura Roslin turned when Adama entered and immediately spoke.

"Fleet Admiral I believe we were nearly taken in by some kind of confidence trickster, this supposed Earthman knows nothing of the Thirtieth Colony or its history as laid down in the Book of Kobol." Laura stopped as Kara Thrace snickered, quickly covering her mouth with a hand and the two Adama men's faces went completely black. Years of experience as a Schoolteacher caused her to whip her heard around, but whatever had been happening behind her back was over.

"I don't know what you think your playing at 'Mister' Crichton but I can assure you that I take the salvation of my people very seriously and." Laura began but was cut off by her Fleet Admiral.

"Madam President could we take a few minutes please, I'm not up to speed on whatever you and Commander Crichton may have already covered and I believe a moment to let tempers cool could not but help what we are **all **trying to accomplish here." Adama used his best command voice easily filling the small room and over powering what Laura Roslin had been about to say.

"Sounds good to me, why don't you kids talk amongst yourselves. Colonel Torins and I will step outside and get a drink, you can send someone for us when the Fleet Admiral is caught up." The _Hades_ Commander and second officer both rose smoothly to their feet and exited the room.

Laura Roslin slumped back into her seat and rubbed the brigade of her nose as she watched Adama and his people arrange themselves around the room.

"What happened?" William Adama asked after a minutes silence.

"He completely denies the Book of Kobol, according to Crichton humanity evolved on Earth." Laura sighed. "He's refused to lead the Fleets to Earth and claims that Earth is in no condition to help us even if he did."

The Colonial's stared at one another in shock. What would they do now?

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Sharon stared in amazement at the scene infront of her. It wasn't the Aliens so much, though they were as strange and intimidating as she had expected. The tall broad shouldered red being with tentacles flowing around his head and off his chin. The women whose skin was a bright grey with hair a startling white, they were strange enough. But the huge four armed crab sitting behind the control console at the end of the room was so far out of Sharon Valerii's experiences, that her first look at it nearly made her ill. But all that wasn't the problem, Seran had warned her and although the Marines warnings hadn't really prepared her, they had at least told her she was about to see something odd. Expect the unexpected maybe a crap situation report but it does get you looking over your shoulder.

It was what the Aliens where doing that amazed the Raptor pilot, when she and Seran had first entered the 'Den' the Aliens, Sharon realized had been purposely posed to show themselves off and intimidate the newbie, her. That reassured Sharon a bit, pilots did the same as a mater of course. The large red creature had been standing in the middle of the room, back straight staring right at the entrance so Sharon had to meet his eyes as soon as she entered through the hatch. The Grey/White women had been lying sprawled across the giant crabs control console. And it had worked, making a huge first impression on 'Boomer', that's where it had all gone wrong.

Seran had all but marched up to the Red male creature and placed the steel suitcase she'd carried since it was taken from the safe on Crichton's Yacht at her feet. Then bracing to attention, she'd addressed him in a strange language full of whistles and clicks. Big Red had listened his eyes widening as he stared at the suitcase then he'd answered, in what sounded to Sharon's bemused ears like the same language and reached to pick it up. He never made it.

Suddenly the Grey woman, more of a girl or young women Sharon could now see, was up and charging across the room screaming something in the same collection of clicks and whistles. She'd leaped on the Big Red creature and wrapping her legs around his waste and seemed to be trying ineffectively, to strangle him.

Now the Big Red male was shouting and waving his arms about, the Giant Crab was bellowing and seemed to be bashing his own head against his console, Seran was right there in the middle of it. Trying to pry the Gray Girl from her perch wrapped around the Red Man. The tough Marine private was having a hard time of it though, as most of her efforts were seemingly spent on trying to not laugh so hard she'd fall over.

"Oh My." The voice from right beside her, startled Sharon. Jolting her around from where she'd been standing watching the spectacle before her. Beside her stood an older woman, tall with soft grey hair, a Lieutenant with the Moyan patches on her uniform. She was smiling and seemed to be holding back some laughter of her own.

"You must Sharon Valerii, I'm Clara Tores." Clara waved vaguely towards the mayhem the Den had fallen to. "Welcome aboard the Leviathan Rovhu."

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A/N

There was a little more to go but I'm never going to top that scene, so here ends Chapter Fourteen.

**Review Review Review Review Review Review! Please**!!! That's right I'm begging for reviews and criticism, pathetic aren't I. Still it seems to work for other writers.

(1) Shelly Godfrey was the cover identity the Six copy used when she first appeared on Galactica.

Many Thanks to Readers who have taken such an interest in Battlestar Farscape.

Aeroprime: who's taken the massive task of Beta'ing my crap writing (not this chapter all mistakes are mine. Aeroprime started from Ch1)

Darklight: Who's followed Battlestar Farscape since the beginning and unmercifully hounded me when my writing slowed down and I needed a shove.

Rydan fall: Supplying fresh idea's and a different look at the Battlestar Farscape universe.

In no particular order

James Axelrad, Reagan, grayangle, darkfinder, soloven, cjcold2, John Lao, Alatoic01, PitViper, WBH21C, King Henry the V, Jumper Prime, Tilius. Aesop, Tony the jew, Rogue15. Skeet of A Thin Veneer fame, known here as AlbertG.

Sorry if I missed anyone.

P.S. Sajuuk-The Great Maker I'd be honored if you used any of my ideas in your stories just remember to give me credit for anything you use.


	15. Chapter 15

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 15

_Pilots Den, Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

"You speak Trade! All this time, back and forth with Pilot and you Speak Trade! You drannit!(4)" Chiana cried out, struggling to get a better grip around D'Argo's throat.

D'Argo finally managed to pry the furious Nebari girl's hands from around his neck gasping enough air to speak.

"Chiana! How would I know you spoke Sebacean? If I had, I would have said something. Why didn't you tell me! You knew my wife was Sebacean." D'Argo roared, desperately trying to explain to the enraged Chiana.

With one last scream, Chiana went limp; her legs dropping from their hold around his waist, to hang like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Yotz." Chiana swore softly. "Trade is Sebacean? It's just this thing we picked up. Nerri (1) found us some black market teaching disks." Chiana stood away, looking up her Luxan friend, the Nebari took a deep breath. "It's the Trade tongue we use on the border of Nebari Space and the Uncharted Territories, translator microbes are banned by the Establishment. We never knew what race it came from, it's just what everybody used."

Suddenly the two Moyan's realized that everybody else in Pilots Den was watching them.

On one side, standing next to Pilots control console stood the tall Sebacean or Human looking soldier who had presented the case from Crichton to D'Argo. Pilot of course was in his usual position (2). Near the Dens hatchway was their familiar language teacher, Clara Tores and next to her stood another Sebaceanoid women, this one younger looking with short dark hair.

"I too must apologize Ka D'Argo, Chiana, I should have inquired. It would have saved a great deal of time and frustration." Pilot's deep soothing voice easily reached the two Colonials standing by the Den's entrance, crossing the bottomless looking pit that filled most of the chamber.

"General D'Argo like I said. I'm Seran of the Moyan Group Commando's. Commander Crichton charged me personally with delivering this case into your care. He said you would be very eager for it to be returned." The first women said

D'Argo and Chiana shared a look before turning to confront the Dens other occupants. It had been a very hard time for the Luxan and Nebari, since they'd woken up on this strange Leviathan. Unable to talk to each other except through the Pilot or the human women, isolated, told stories about Crichton and Aeryn that they could barely believe and could not confirm. Even unable to communicate, it had bonded them even closer together than their time on Moya had.

The younger Sebaceanoid women broke the awkward silence, following Pilots short speech.

"What's going on?" Spoken in Colonial, or Kobolian as the language was officially known. D'Argo and Chiana could both pick out the separate words, and it only took a second to work out their meaning. They had not heard or spoken anything else but the human language since Clara Tores had first introduced herself to them.

"Chiana and Ka D'Argo just discovered that they have a second language in common. They'd both been struggling to talk to each other, having lost the translation device that they used to use." Clara Tores answered her.

D'Argo wanted nothing more than to snatch up the silver case this woman, Seran offered, there was only one thing he could think of that it could be. But first he wanted to bring some order to this mess.

D'Argo wanted to get a look at the robot/human thing, this Cylon. A race that they were now apparently fighting (thanks to John). So far she looked like a human, through she did smell slightly different to his Luxan nose. When Captain Croft had told him that Crichton was sending the Cylon here he'd objected: loudly. But thinking about it, he'd decided it was his job (as usual) to get them all out of this typical Crichton tangle of people and events. Events that they'd normally have Starburst the frell away from, long before the Moyan's had gotten this deeply involved.

"You are the Cylon?" Confidently D'Argo strode forward to confront this new creature. His Colonial was slow and not particularly fluent, but Clara Tores had told him if he spoke clearly he could make himself understood. Anyway Chiana had seemed to get the meaning of whatever he said in the cursed language, for the last day or so.

The young human looking women stared up at him for a second. With his long experience trying to figure out what the frell they were thinking, first with his wife Lo'Laan and her family, then John and Aeryn. D'Argo could easily read expressions on Sebaceanoid faces, but the shear speed a hundred emotions ran across the females face, proved more than he could follow. Finally she seemed to settle on a look of resigned anger.

"Yes." The short answer wasn't angry and defiant as D'Argo would have guessed but more tired than anything. And it didn't really satisfy the Luxan warriors need to get a feel for these new creatures. But before he could press the girl further the women who'd just introduced herself as Seran crossed the Den until she was standing next to the shorter women and laid her hand on the Cylon's shoulder.

Chiana listened with half an ear while D'Argo talked to the new comers; something else had caught her attention.

The silver case was big, Chiana had been mildly impressed with the Sebacean women's strength, she'd carried the awkward looking thing so easily. It was about 110 henta (or centimeter's if you were speaking Colonial) long, 60 wide and 40 deep. The clasps were strange clunky things, but they were easy enough for Chiana to work out, after a microt the Nebari girl popped the case open, eager to see what Crichton had sent her.

The first thing that caught her eye was a fur, with quick eager hands she pulled the garment out of the case, holding it up to inspect it. Ignoring the other contents for now, Chiana held up the long single piece. Rich luxuriant fur around the neck wrists and ankles, the tight looking skin-suit was a riot of glossy purples and blacks. After running an appreciative hand over the silks and velvet Chiana reluctantly laid the beautiful suit aside. She had been reduced to wearing the drab Colonial uniforms she'd borrowed from a few of the shorter members of the _Guards_ crew, and was determined to change out of the ugly thing as soon as possible. But first there were more goodies to explore.

The Nebari dived back into the case. Whatever great things the Goo on this planet could be praised for, it would never be the universes number one material preserver. Her (and D'Argo's) clothes had literally been falling to pieces since the day they'd woken up here.

Pushing aside the deep red of a Luxan warrior robe, Chiana discovered another outfit this one a two piece of silver and blue. Then two jacket's in her size, one of dark leather the other light suede. Putting the jackets aside for now on her growing pile of treasures, she dug further and revealed the cases final contents.

"D'Argo! Look at this!" Chiana called to her Luxan companion, as she pulled the first package from under the clothes. Holding it up she displayed the small deadly looking pulse pistol in its holster, with a wide leather belt wrapped securely around, for D'Argo to see.

D'Argo turned from where he'd been talking to Sharon Valerii and Marine Private Seran to look at Chiana, his brow scrunched in confusion. In her excitement the Nebari had spoken in her native language.

With a cry of delight D'Argo nearly ran to where Chiana sat, with the case onthe deck next to Pilot's command console. Ignoring the small pistol Chiana held out for him to inspect, D'Argo reached past her into the case and grasped the familiar hilt he could see under the clutter.

Drawing the Qualta Blade from the harness it was wrapped in, the Luxan striped away the metal sheath and flourished the blade, feeling the familiar balance. The Qualta Blade having past the first test, D'Argo began a frantic inspection of the sword's blade, cross guard and hilt. Not stopping until he found a near invisible mark: left over from a battle that his father had carried the Blade through. D'Argo felt an easing in his hearts, an ache he had carried since the first time he'd realized that his forefathers ancient Blade, his legacy to carry with honor and pass down to his children was missing, slowly faded.

_Caprica City, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Captain Anthony Cavil, Ships Priest lately assigned to the Battlestar _Galactica_ (although he doubted he appeared on that ships crew roster anymore) a Model Two Human Form Cylon of the Crusader Fleet, strolled along his familiar path through the deserted streets of Caprica city. He'd been walking this route every day for over a week now, since they'd finally let him leave the Resurrection Ship in orbit.

The path he took led him away from the area of the city where the other Human Form Cylon's worked. Busily rebuilding the parks, monuments, homes and businesses of their dead human foes. Creating the first steps toward a new Cylon home world they told him, behaving in some deranged imitation of the humans they'd defeated the other Model Two's told them, but Anthony no longer cared. He had found a new purpose and no longer tried to get the others to see reason. He made his way towards the city centre where the Colonial Parliament had once stood, before it was destroyed in the Liberation.

The Model Two stopped with a jerk and braced himself against the broken remains of the apartment building he was passing, sudden vertigo clouded his vision. Sweat broke out covering his body, in a second gluing his neat uniform to his shaking body. Overcome with the last scene he remembered from _Galactica_. Again he replayed the memory. He stood in the old Battlestar's seemingly endless dark grey corridors, struggling to reach Lieutenant Thrace, desperate to crush the life out of the pathetic human women, burning with fear and rage. But denied by suddenly leaden arms, his body falling dragging him down into darkness.

With a wrenching turn Anthony lashed out, slamming his clenched fist into the apartment buildings broken wall. The pain exploded from his hand and broke the Cylon from the nightmarish vision, gulping a deep breath of the dead cites foul air into his lungs Anthony leaned against the wall as he waited for his franticly beating heart to slow.

Anthony Cavil had few memories of his last days on the [IGalactica[/I. Mostly his normal routine, tending the shrines of the Lords of Kobol, ministering to the religiously inclined among the ships crew. He remembered the announcement of the Battlecruiser _Helios's_ arrival but none of the details the others, or particularly the Gestalt had wanted to know.

A sudden surprisingly high-pitched giggle escaped from between the Model Two's clenched teeth. The other's where still debating whether or not he should be Boxed.

"Too late for that now my friends." Anthony Cavil told the empty streets.

Although his original mission, planting a beacon in the _Galactica's_ CIC had been ruined, when that idiot 'Aaron Doral' had been seen inspecting it, he'd still been among the enemy longer than most agents had. He still possessed some, apparently useful information about the leaders of the refugee fleet, particularly the military. The Gestalt also hoped that studying him would lead to some clues about the device that the humans had used to kill his body and disrupt his Resurrection. Of the five other agents scattered throughout the fleet, none had yet Resurrected or been heard from, save the Model Three. 'D'Anna Biers'. Who'd cowardly destroyed her own body, before she even saw the Colonials new device.

Since his Resurrection he'd been required to spend hours in the community of minds, while the Gestalt and selected agents studied his memories and the damage done to his consciousness by the humans. It was a wasted effort, as Anthony Cavil had told them, the other Cylon's could hardly see his mind and if they did they couldn't understand the glimpses they did see.

The vast majority of the calls for his Boxing came from those Cylon agents who had caught a stay thought as they tried to study his mind.

Anthony Cavil grinned as he stood away from the broken wall and continued his trek. Before the Liberation he and the other Model Two's had tried to explain to others that they should just leave the humans alone and let them destroy themselves, they'd been ignored as the religious minded had tipped the Gestalt into their corner and the Crusade had been born. Now they spoke loudest among the Human Forms for the complete destruction of the human race, while the Cylon's had them at their mercy and again they were being ignored.

The religious ones, the Model's Six's, Four's and sometimes the Three's waited for a sign from God and were hoping the _Galactica_ group would lead them to some kind of messiah. The Scientific group, for want of a better name, the Seven's and Eight's and again sometimes supported by the Three's and even his own brother Model Two's on occasion, had started the massive breeding program in order to create a viable Human Form that could reproduce .

Anthony turned off the boulevard, into small side street, this one clear of most of the debris that clogged the deserted city and lengthened his pace. Both the Religious and the Scientific factions failed to see the obvious, that while they lived the humans where a threat both now and in the future. While they'd been left alone there was a good chance they'd kill themselves off, but anyway even if the simulations they'd run before the Liberation were wrong and the human race somehow survived its own violent nature, they'd been no threat to the Cylon's. Back then they'd had the whole universe to expand into and explore. But now after the Crusade the humans would always be a deadly sword, hanging over the Cylon Empire waiting to plunge home.

The Model Two broke into a short jog as he neared his destination, but couldn't help another high-pitched giggle. Those agents, who most wanted him Boxed, they couldn't put their reasons into words couldn't explain why he disturbed them so much. Hell they couldn't put it into coherent thoughts that they could pass on to others. From all the data the Gestalt could gather he was a model of cooperation.

He wasn't hiding his innermost thoughts like the Model Six that had used Dr. Baltar to plant the Virus. He wasn't becoming too egocentric to fit into the community of minds like the Model Three known as D'Anna Biers. He accommodated any request they put to him. Helping analyze the intelligence reports they had on the humans, spending hours everyday communing with the Gestalt. Apparently genuinely trying to reconnect with the Cylon community, but those who sifted through the scattered pieces of his mind reported a vague sense of unease and unanimously recommended Boxing.

The Gestalt couldn't understand it, and in the end that was why the Model Two who in his old life had never thought of himself as Anthony Cavil but now answered to it naturally was walking around free. In a new body and not locked away in a buffer memory storage.

Anthony stopped before the small run down building that he'd spent all his free time at since the others had let him go, and quickly scanned the silent streets around him making something of a show of it. Peering up and down the street. Carefully not looking up and defiantly not seeing the two human shaped figures standing on the rooftop across the street.

With a few quick steps he disappeared off the streets of Caprica City and into the Birth place of the new Promised Land of the Cylon race.

The Cylon War Museum of Technology hadn't had such an avid customer in years. Long before the Cylon conquest of Caprica this collection of history had been sadly neglected, Anthony thought as he set about clearing through another room.

"What does he do in there all day?" The Model Three (D'Anna Biers) said glancing at her companion a Model Five (Aaron Doral).

"He cleans, polishes the old Centurions armor, straightens out the displays, he's taken down the human memorials to their battles and brought out more of the old Cylon relics, that they'd had in storage." The Model Five told her.

"He really is insane then? I barely believed it when they told me. Why hasn't he been Boxed?" The tall blonde Cylon asked.

"The Gestalt is studying him. When Its finished, he will be." The Model Five turned back to watching the small run down museum that the deranged Model Two had made his base, the tall woman at his side following his example.

"What have we learned?" The Model Three asked after a few minutes studying the small building. "How did this 'Two' survive when none of the others did?"

"He didn't." The 'Aaron Doral' copy answered shortly starting to get a little irritated by the 'Three's' questions. They'd been sent here to do a job not gossip.

The Model Three started to smile slightly as she kept her eyes focused on the target. She already knew the basics of their strange mission from her own briefing. But it was a quirk of her nature, one she shared with the rest of her series, that caused her to dig at problems and question what was already known. It was also amusing to needle her fellow Cylon's. She waited knowing that however much it annoyed her companion the 'Five' wouldn't be able to resist showing off his greater knowledge.

The Model Five frowned at his companion, having a good idea at what she was doing. He had worked with 'Three's' before and knew what they were like. But at the same time he had been on this duty since the deranged 'Two' had been released, didn't that make it his job to instruct newly assigned agents?

With a sigh he gave in to the 'Three's' silent waiting.

"He didn't survive." The 'Aaron Doral' copy repeated. "Not really, not in any fit state to Resurrect. Since this first happened during the Liberation the Gestalt has been working on ways to recover information from the damaged consciousness. This 'Two' had the most data attached to the subspace burst. It was barely six percent of what we'd expect from a normal Resurrection."

"Six percent? That's not enough to get a body's heart to beat, how is he walking around?" The 'Three' was amazed. Obviously there was more to this story than she'd first thought.

"There was barely enough information for the Gestalt to determine which series he belonged to." The Model Five agreed. "But once we knew that; we tracked down which agent it must be. We gathered all the reports and memory's he'd ever downloaded. Then he was compiled with a basic Model Two template and anything else that seemed relevant." The Model Five grimaced as if he smelt something unpleasant. "Like I said he didn't survive. That thing down there is just the collected of memories of a dead Cylon."

The Three looked down at the small building with a growing sense of disgust and horror.

"It's an abomination! Why would the Gestalt do this?" To twist and bend a Cylon's very code! It stuck at the very core of what made a Cylon real, to be treated like just another program, it was hideous. The Model Three shuddered at the thought of her own personality being rewritten or merged, warped against her will.

"The Gestalt hopes that once he's stabilized we will be able to examine the last seconds in detail and learn how the humans are doing this." Tone of voice neutral. The 'Aaron Doral' copy answered, not disputing his companion's statement, but not agreeing either.

"Why this one and why now? Surely one of those lost during the Liberation would have given us the answers a lot sooner, and maybe we'd have a defense by now. Been able to stop this!" Angrily she gestured down towards the building.

"Of all the broken and corrupted data packs the Resurrection Ships have received since the Liberation, that we believe might be Cylon agents experiencing bad or damaged Resurrections. His was the only one with enough information to tell what Model he belonged to. But that was all we could learn from the scrambled data burst, nothing else we could interpret was recovered. What little was there was unreadable by the Gestalt, even the Resurrection Ships Hybrid couldn't see anything useful in the mess."

_Battlestar Galactica._

Colonial Tigh stood in the command pit of _Galactica's_ CIC, looking at the clogged DRADIS display. Not even a hundred ships Saul thought, looking at it, and it's a wonder. You could have taken the collected fleet and dropped it into orbit around Caprica or Picon and except for the Cylon Command ship, no one would have raised an eyebrow, they would all easily be lost among the normal traffic. But it was still a wonder and a thing of beauty, not that the hard as nails CDF Colonel would ever say out loud.

Looking around CIC, Tigh could see that the old ship was running as smoothly as could be expected. The 'Old Man' had been off-ship for hours now and the _Galactica_ hadn't yet descended into chaos under his command, always a good thing.

"Lieutenant Gaeta, report." The Tactical Officer was overseeing the refuel of the Battlestar from one of the _Hades_ Fleet Tenders.

"Main tanks one and two are both at full capacity, the reserve tank just topped three quarters. Another twenty minutes until they complete the operation, then they'll start bringing across munitions Colonel." Felix Gaeta reported.

"Good, but keep an eye on them. Chief Tyrol said the crew on that tub look even younger than those kids on the _Helios_." Colonial Tigh told the younger officer.

"Aye Sir." The Lieutenant turned back to the Landing Officers station, he had most of the port side near ship DRADIS sensors focused on the 1010 metre long Mule Class CDF Tender sitting meters away from _Galactica's_ hull, with a few of the extra displays reconfigured to monitor the fuel levels. The modern Fleet Tender was designed to service battleships with less than two-third the needs of the aging Battlestar. But doing it a lot quicker, if the Tylium were injected into the tanks at the normal pressure the Chief had warned that the fifty-year-old mechanism could rupture, so Gaeta oversaw that as well.

With a parting nod to Lieutenant Gaeta, Tigh moved over to where Petty Officer Second Anastasia Dualla watched over the communication section. She had four other ratings under her today squeezed in around the station.

"How are they doing now 'Dee'?" Tigh asked. After the initial greetings and what they were seeing on DRADIS or through their ship ports had sunk in, the civilian ships had exploded with radio chatter. Ships of _Galactica's _Fleet calling to each other, speculating and gossiping. The Fleet radios News service going nuts, everyone trying to talk to the _Hades_ or any of new ships, trying to find lost loved ones or just to talk to someone new. The whole mess had started to jam the military frequencies. Anastasia had cooped well, but was getting swamped by the shear amount of radio traffic Tigh had to call in most of _Galactica's_ off shift communication specialists to help out.

"We seem to have gotten a handle on everything Colonel, the civilians are starting to calm down. Major Jorda over on the _Hades_ has been helping a lot. He had the _Hades_ ECM keeping the worst of them under control." The P.O. reported. Looking up from where she was watching a list of radio channels scroll across a technician's computer screen.

"Worst?" When Tigh had last checked half an hour ago, all the civilians had still been trying to talk over the top of each other and completely ignoring the orders to stand down from the CDF ships. Saul had been all but ready to send in the Marines. It was only the knowledge of how delicate things where between Adama, Crichton and the Civilians meeting on _Hades_ that persuaded him to take things slowly.

"Yes Sir the _Space Park_, they must have hooked their transmitters straight into their energizers, it was so overpowered. But _Hades_ squashed them like a bug, completely smothered their signal with white noise. I've got reports that some of their equipment actually shorted out." Anastasia Dualla told him, excitement tinting her normal professional calm. "The gear they have over on the _Hades_ must be amazing, DRADIS didn't even register an energy spike when they did it, of course the energy readings we get from that giant are off the scale already."

"I would have thought Corsica had more sense than that." Tigh had met and worked with Captain Phelps Corsica the master of the _Space Park_ during their search of the ship for Cylon infiltrators. The man had seemed sensible, for a civilian.

"His brother was the first officer of a Planet Taxi called the _Sterling_. The ships part of the _Hades_ fleet but the Colonial Marshals list him as not surviving the Holocaust. He's been trying to get more information and scrambling everybody else's radio traffic. From what I heard his first officer was trying to order him off the bridge when the _Hades _shut them down." Dualla told the _Galactica's_ XO.

"Damm, Give them another five minutes for them to sort themselves out, then advise _Hades_ to back off and let us handle it. If Corsica is still running amuck we will have to send Marines over to restore control. Inform Sergeant Hadrian that she might be needed and get me Chief Tyrol." Colonel Tigh ordered, wincing internally. Using Marines to control Civilian's never worked out. Saul hoped like Hell that in the allotted five minutes they managed to pull their heads out of the arses on their own, or one way or the other there would be hell to pay. The Colonel walked back to his position in the command pit, unclipping the COM handset from its place on the tactical board's side.

_Engineering, Battlestar Galactica._

"Cally! Get over here!" Galen shouted as he hung up the inter-ship COM. Across the wide Bay the small figure of Specialist Cally Henderson waved to show she'd heard and started jogging towards him. Forced to slow, squeezing past or under or climbing over, the huge pipes that crisscrossed the compartment she still made good time.

Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol looked over Engineering with some frustration, since the decommissioning _Galactica_ hadn't had a Chief Engineer, or any fully qualified engineering officers. It had been left up to him and the other deck Chiefs to maintain the old Battlestar's drive, engines, energizers, power systems and anything else the least bit mechanical on the 'The Bucket'. Mostly it had fallen to him and the rest of the crew from Alpha shift, since they'd been the only shift that started out with all hands. Soon that would change, if the plans he'd heard the Old Man and the XO discussing while they'd talked about merging with other survivors, came about.

But for now Galen and his people were again pulling triple shifts, trying to do a dozen jobs, only half of which they'd been trained for. He had nearly a hundred engineering and maintenance crew to supervise, who were trained in the thousands of daily tasks it took to keep a Battlestar flying, but they'd been selected to man a museum not a battleship. Then there were another hundred or so civilian volunteers recruited from the refuge ships, who's training ran the gauntlet from pilots who had thought they'd qualify to fly Vipers but hadn't made it. To a physicist who liked to stare off into space when he should be working, and who had the annoying habit of writing mathematical formula, which no one else could understand, on any flat surface he was left alone with for any length of time.

On the whole keeping the _Galactica_ in anything like a fit state was a huge, unending task the Chief Petty Officer could well have done without. But at least he'd had over four months to get used to it. Now he was over seeing the loading of millions of tons of tylium fuel. Something a deck Chief had to be qualified in, but that was traditionally a Chief Engineers or his deputy's job. Galen knew the procedure, had even directed several refueling's back in training. More recently the deck Chief had helped out a few times when old Chief Engineer Wilson had been short handed on the Battlestar _Valkyrie_ the Fleet Admirals old command. But that had been either training on one of the CDF's modern Battlecruiser's or a top of the line Columbia class Battlestar, not a fifty-year-old relic.

He was also missing one, possibly crazy ex-girl friend. Who may have been trying to blow up the ship? But he was working really hard to not think about that.

"Cally head back to the Flight deck and get a team to help you prep a Raptor, the XO might need to send some Marines off-ship."

_Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Samuel T Anders wiggled slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position without actually moving, he couldn't do it and relaxed with a frustrated sigh. Focusing on the image through the view finder on the Colonel Marine Corps issue binoculars, rather than the piece of tree sticking into his side or the itchy camouflage netting draped over his back. Taking time to look over the whole view he was seeing, not getting distracted by the most obvious feature that jumped out to grab his attention, just like Janis Thonn had shown him. Anders was slowly learning the outside of the Cylon held CDF armory. It was going to be the site of today's party and the former Pyramid Champion wanted to learn the layout

"Well?" Sue-Shaun's voice called softly from behind him, where his teammate from the Caprica Buccaneers had her back set to a tree, in her position covering him. According to Janis Thonn they should be following what he called operational security and remaining silent, it sounded great, for professional soldiers. But Samuel Anders and his people were 'Gifted Amateurs' according to Thonn and Anders liked to keep his team in the loop on the important stuff.

"The counts at three skinjobs and seven cents I've spotted. Last patrol left twenty minutes ago. We're still set for 0600." He and Sue-Shaun had been stuck here for just over two hours, since they arrived at four o'clock this morning. Since then he'd seen three of the human looking Cylon clone things, that he and his crew called skinjobs and seven centurions on what seemed a regular route circling the Armory's three main buildings. Twenty minutes ago a group of eight cents had come out of the biggest building and led by another skinjob, had marched off toward the city of Delphi about eight kilometers away. They would wait until they got a little further away.

Playing cat and mouse across the mountains with Cylon search teams always keeping one ear cocked listening for patrolling Scimitars or Heavy Raiders ferrying in Cents had done wonders to sharpen Anders senses. The flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention like a neon sign.

"Damm!" Muttered under his breath, the curse really didn't do a lot to vent Anders feelings.

"We have anybody to the East, Sue?" All ready knowing the answer Anders watched the two distant figures edge their way forward.

"Nope, you decided it was too much of a mess over there. Whoever we sent in would have a better chance of braking their necks, than of getting into the base." Sue-Shaun answered him.

"Yeah it's a death trap, all lose shale covered in scrub and sand. But I've got two frakking idiots in CDF flight suits who think they can do it." Samuel Anders replied.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System_.

Laura Roslin stood in front of the sink in the restroom off from the meeting room where she'd had her last meeting with Commander Crichton. Looking into the mirror she easily picked out the pain lines etched around her eyes and mouth visible even under the layers of powder and makeup, at least to herself. The deep throbbing agony that she'd lived with for months was at full strength. The numbing affects of the Chamalla extract had failed her when she needed them most, as she'd been warned they would. The shock of Commander Crichton's words had angered her; he'd seemed to be attacking everything that she had clung to since the Holocaust. But even so, her reaction had been extreme and unwarranted.

She couldn't believe she'd acted like that. It went against everything she'd ever learned as a politician and as a teacher.

"Madam President?" Billy Keikeya called from outside the small room's door, his voice strained with worry.

Laura turned slightly and called over her shoulder.

"One moment Billy." Mentally bracing herself for the bitter acid taste, Laura pulled a small beaker from the depths of her coat pocket. With a quick, well-practiced motion she measured a large dose into the cap and drank it down. Laura couldn't repress a shudder, as the vile stuff burned its way down her throat.

With one final glance at the mirror Laura straightened her shoulders and joined her assistant outside.

Billy Keikeya gave President Roslin a startled look as she all but marched past him and had to hurry to get to his place by her side. The restroom was just off the meeting rooms and they reached their destination in a few steps. Laura hardly broke step as she walked between her Secret Service men, who hastily threw the door for her.

Fleet Admiral Adama was alone, he looked up from his reading the various memos and reports Commander Crichton had left. The two leaders stared at each other for a second. William Adama's face was smooth and expressionless, but his eyes blazed. His stony gaze bounced straight off of Laura's determination. She could feel the Chamalla working, it didn't really do anything for the pain, but it did let her focus her mind despite it

"Billy give us five minutes, then ask Commander Crichton and Colonel Torins to join us please." Laura ordered not looking away from Adama.

Billy stood torn for a second. He wanted to stay by Laura's side, especially when she was so obviously unwell, but the young Caprican Aid quickly got himself in hand and headed back out into the conference to look for the _Hades_ commanders.

Billy Keikeya entered the conference room to see the press of people had rearranged themselves again. But this wasn't the normal swirl of political maneuvers. There seemed to be a more definite and immediate purpose to the positioning within the spacious room. At one end stood the Quorum and Council members surrounded by their aids and staffers. To Billy's inexperienced eye, they looked like they where trying to form a defensive phalanx like the ancient warriors of Kobol you saw in religious paintings.

Directly opposite stood Commander Crichton and Colonel Torins each with a drink in their hands talking quietly to each other.

When the two Hades officers had left the private meeting straight after Fleet Admiral Adama had entered, it had caused a stir among the gathered Council and Quorum members. They saw things weren't going to plan and suddenly their new alliances looked shaky. They had flocked to the displaced Earthman, looking for information and reassurance.

Unfortunately Crichton wasn't in the mood. After he had explained to the collected Colonial notables his theory on why he was the universes punching bag, with heavy references to Alice in Wonderland and Harley Davidson commercials. They'd decided to move to the far side of the room and search for reassurance there, at the Bar.

_Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

The Leviathans medical bay hadn't seen this much action since its days serving the Peacekeeper crew and the assorted convicts they'd brought aboard. Back in the Cycles (5) that a Control Collar had chained Rovhu and his Pilot and they'd slaved as a prison ship. With D'Argo, Chiana, Seran and Clara Tores all crowding around one of the diagnostic-beds the brightly-lit room seemed a hive of activity.

Pilot observed the room though dozens of sensors. The holo interface of the clamshell COM system, that reached most of the major compartments of the Leviathan, projected his image so that the assembled crew and visitors could see him. But that was the least of his perception, sensors on the DRD's that had been working on the diagnostic-bed and the Leviathans complex nervous system in the living walls gave Pilot a view that was literally beyond the comprehension of most sentient beings. While Pilot listened to the various conversations between D'Argo, Chiana, Seran and Clara Tores, most of his and Rovhu's attention was riveted on the rebuilt diagnostic-bed the group was clustered around, and the young Human/Cylon woman who lay in its embrace

What was once a simple, if powerful scanner, had been modified into something much more complex. Leviathan toubray (neural) tissue had been grafted around the edge of the mostly technological device. Thick hi-density power cables ran from openings in the wall to supply extra energy and two computer consoles, that D'Argo and Chiana recognized as equipment commonly found on a Leviathan Transport Pod, had been added to the beds base. Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii lay in a pool of amnexis fluid, her eyes were open but blank. From time to time her body would flinch slightly and her sightless eyes would sharpen and track from side to side focusing for a second before dimming again. But other than that, she'd been still for over half an hour, since she had climbed into the device.

"Pilot, how much longer?" Chiana asked. Looking down at the young woman she'd met just an hour ago.

The three dimensional ghostly image of Pilot projected by the Clamshell, turned his head away from the occupied bed and looked at Chiana.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure Chiana. Rovhu is satisfied that Lieutenant Valerii is the only complex mind in this body and that she is the same conciseness that has been active for the last three Cycles. However there is a great deal of fragmented and corrupted code spread throughout her mind and the bio-computer sub units. Rovhu is in essence virus checking and de-bugging her entire system, it is a time consuming process. We are much closer to the end than the beginning, but that is as close an estimate as I can give you." Pilot explained. His large expressive eyes going back to study his 'Patient' as if drawn by a magnet.

"So she's human?" D'Argo spoke up, he and Seran had kept a close eye on Sharon since they had explained what they wanted to do, to prove her free of Cylon control.

"That is a difficult question Ka D'Argo the short answer is yes she is." D'Argo, Chiana and Clara all groaned quietly. Everyone who spent anytime aboard Rovhu could tell that D'Argo's question had set Pilot off into one of his lecturing moods. Clara joined in with the other two mostly for effect, she actually enjoyed the enthusiasm Pilot had for science and his desire to share what he learned. Even though she knew that if left to his own devices Pilot could go on for hours. Both Chiana and D'Argo had commented on how different Rovhu's Pilot was to their old shipmate on Moya.

"Biologically she is as human as Lieutenant Tores." Pilot told them once again looking back at Sharon's still figure. "That is a true and correct statement but it is in no way a complete answer. It is in the detail that we find the most interesting divergence from the Human norm. As I have observed it in Commander Crichton, Colonel Torins and the crew of the _Guard_."

"Sharon Valerii's body is a Human Clone that has been manipulated on a genetic level to included nine extra clumps of neural tissue and a silicon polymer to create an impressive, if primitive computer network. There are a few minor changes to boost strength and reaction time. Interestingly these are an order of magnitude less than what Rovhu and I expected to find. These beings have been reported to have near Luxan equivalent strength." Casting an annoyed glance at D'Argo, who had snorted at the thought of a Crichton as strong a Luxan, Pilot glanced over his audience, he was pleased to see that he had captured their attention.

"I can only assume that in those observed instances the Cylon intelligence overloaded the muscles with adrenaline and cut off the pain receptors." Pilot continued. "It would be impossible, with what I'm have seen in this subject and the autopsy's sent on from Colonial medical staff, for them to operate at such a level for any length of time. Overstressed tendons would ripe loose from bones and oxygen starved muscles would die as they cannibalized themselves for energy."

"You said Biologically Pilot, how about mentally?" Clara Tores promoted getting into the spirit of things.

Pilot nodded his large crustacean like head and smiled, a professor acknowledging a bright student who had said something clever.

"I am doubtful that there was ever an Colonial women named Sharon Valerii. Much of what Rovhu and I have found, looks similar to constructs created in Scarran virtual reality devices. But on a different, greater level of complexity." Pilot paused for a second. Letting them absorb that.

"Scarran?" Seran asked her voice cold with the effort it took to keep all emotion out of it. She'd had more than a few nightmares about the giant lizards attack on Rovhu. Maybe not as horrifying as what came later; but no fun either.

"Yes, but I'm not suggesting that there is any Scarran involvement here, just that evidence supports that the Sharon Valerii that served on the Battlestar _Galactica_ was created in a virtual environment where she grew up, attended school, then joined the CDF. The difference in memories from when she left the virtual life and reported for duty aboard the Battlestar _Valkyrie_ are clearly visible when under investigation."

"The activation or awakening of a much more ordered and logic based Artificial Intelligence four and a half months ago, just after the Holocaust is also obvious. But for some reason it didn't immediately overwrite large sections of Sharon Valerii's psychology as they where both designed to accommodate. The A.I or Cylon buried itself in the silicon polymer neural network and began an exhaustive regime of self-checks and repairs. I believe that this event coincides with the _Galactica's_ visit to the Ragnar Anchorage."

_Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Naxos watched and studied and most of all planned there was much to do. The return of his little Brother Rovhu had given him much to consider.

Crafty Hephaestus's thoughts were wise, and Cunning Hephaestus's words were Law.

But Naxos was so much lesser than Devious Hephaestus, and his understanding of the wise thoughts framing the cunning words was flawed.

Because as far as Naxos could tell the Leviathans were failing in their great task and according to Naxos flawed understanding of the Program set by Hephaestus, they could never hope to succeed.

It would be so simple, to give his little siblings a better chance at fulfilling their great Mission. A small change here, an added system there and they could accomplish so much more!

It was vexing and would need more study.

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A/N

(1) Nerri is Chiana's older brother; he organized their escape from Nebari Prime and the Establishment (the Big Brother type Nebari government). He stayed with her for a few years as the made there way through the Uncharted Territories as thieves and con-artists. He later joined a group of revolutionaries and returned to Nebari space to fight against the Establishment.

(2) Pilot's physically bond with a Leviathan. Usually they'd never leave their position in the Den once they'd bonded, although Moya's Pilot has done it in special circumstances.

(3) My take on Translator microbes is that the ones used in Peacekeeper Space and the Uncharted Territories are Peacekeeper technology that the Cauldron Artifact has never encountered before and can not reproduce no DRD's survived the Kaarvok, Xarai time on Rovhu.

(4) Drannit (common curse in the U.T.) A vile, noisome, or uncouth creature, from Wiki

(5) A Cycle is roughly equivalent to an Earth year. One year is equal to 0.96 Cycles.


	16. Chapter 16

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia, Battlestar Wiki and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 16

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

The mood of the small meeting room was radically different, since the four had met not half an hour before.

Then, during Presidents Roslin's angry accusation against Commander Crichton the air had crackled with antagonism. Now it was more awkward than anything else. The _Hades_ crewmembers knew that Fleet Admiral Adama had taken Laura Roslin to task over her behavior and the _Galactica's_ Fleet representatives knew that they knew, and so on. On the whole President Roslin avoided everybody's eyes as they took their seats.

Silence stretched as John Crichton and Laura Roslin each waited for the other to speak.

Crichton cracked first, of course.

"OK! Accusations were made, harsh words were spoken, by both sides and nether of us acted quite as maturely as we could have. But that's the past, we should all look to the future. Let bygones be bygones and move on, shell we? What's say the gallery?" Crichton proclaimed as grandly as he could manage. Mangling, together five or six, half remembered impressive sounding speeches. Dredging his memory from his history and politically study classes, back at good old JFK high.

The displaced Earthman was completely flabbergasted when the assembled Colonial's all nodded somberly and intoned.

"And so say we all!"

John hadn't quite meant his little speech to be taken that seriously. Sometimes colonials, even good friends like Paula Torins, were just weird.

Crichton grinned suddenly he'd have to remember to tell Aeryn about it. She'd get a kick out him, of all people, thinking the someone was weird. Even if his Sebacean ladylove did think all humans, whether they came from the Colonies or Earth were all fahrbot. John knew Aeryn, reserved a special category for him.

"Wise words Commander, we should all take them to heart." Fleet Admiral Adama complemented him and Laura Roslin nodded.

"Yes Commander Crichton, we do need to move on. I apologize for my earlier words." Laura Roslin said.

Crichton waved her down.

"Already forgotten, Madam President, already forgotten." John assured her.

"But we do need some questions answered, before we can continue. You are in a powerful position. Not only to do us great good, but great harm as well." President Roslin continued not letting Crichton derail her from her point.

John stared at the woman for a second, noting that Adama hadn't contradicted his Presidents statement. The displaced Earthman glanced at his XO, silently asking what she thought of this development.

Paula shrugged in reply to Crichton's questioning look. She could see this situation going bad no mater what Crichton said. President Roslin's display earlier hadn't impressed the Marine Corps Colonel one little bit, there was too much at stake here, to many lives on the line. Paula Torins casually shifted in her seat, making sure the Pulse Pistol she wore, holstered at her hip, was accessible.

If things went bad she would make sure it didn't effect the chances of her people surviving. Her troops were in position and they had their orders.

Whatever Crichton saw in Paula's expression must have helped, the _Hades_ Commander looked back at Roslin and Adama a decision made.

"Look people we've got to move past this, so I'm just going to lay my cards on the table, clear the air! OK?"

The two Colonial leaders nodded. Laura Roslin settled back and took a sip of her tea while William Adama leaned forward.

"My Name is Commander John Robert Crichton, born on Earth or as you folks like to call it the Thirteenth Colony. Parents Jack and Leslie Crichton, two sisters Olivia my younger sis and Susan who is older than I am. I followed in my Dad's footsteps and became an astronaut. But that wasn't my main gig, mostly I'm a Theoretical Physicist who moonlights as a space ship designer, propulsion researcher and basically the universes favorite kickball."

"But." Laura began Crichton quickly shushed the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, he was on a roll.

"Wait, wait. Let me finish first. All questions will be answered after the presentation."

"Now Earth's best spacecraft, at the moment, is the Space Shuttle. Looks a little like your old Mark Six's, but it's a booster assist design. Can't brake atmosphere without a huge great set of booster rockets strapped onto its belly, and its pretty much limited to near Earth orbit when it gets there. I always thought that kind of sucked, I wanted to go to our moon like my dad."

"So my best friend DK and I came up with this theory, we called it the Farscape Maneuver, it was all about gravity-assisted propulsion using the planets gravity well, to boost a spacecraft out of orbit. Or just dramatically increase speed without wasting fuel. After years of politics and butt kissing they finally let us test it, and BOOM! One latent wormhole later and I land in the middle of the Uncharted Territories, on the other side of the universe." Crichton wished he'd thought to bring his drink in with him, he was suddenly dry as dirt. He helped himself to one of the cups of tea that Laura Roslin's assistant had left out, before the kid had left the room.

"There I met up with Aliens, Aeryn Sun of the Sebacean's, Ka D'Argo a Luxan, Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan a Delvian, Chiana a Nebari, Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth a Hynerian, Pilot who's a Pilot and Moya a Leviathan." Crichton continued.

"We were travelers, and I guess you could call us adventures. Although most of the time we just seemed to be getting out of one brawl or another, recovering from the last mess we'd gotten involved in, or trying to avoid the sticky situation, that we could see heading our way over the horizon."

"Then Aeryn, Chiana, D'Argo and I landed on Rovhu. A very special ship, stuff happened. We got mixed up with the Xarai. There was shouting, fisticuffs may have been involved. To make a long story short, we crashed in your backyard. A very, very strange planet called the Cauldron in a star system which I, in a flash of inspiration and ingenuity, named the Cauldron System."

"I've never heard of a planet called the Cauldron, Commander." Bill Adama said carefully. More than a bit stunned by the bizarre story. He'd come here willing to except anything, he'd thought. If it would put him one step closer to securing Crichton's help for the Colony's, now he found his credulousness stretched to the limits.

"Wouldn't have expected you to Fleet Admiral, that's the place's name, but I have no idea who hung it on the big blue ball of play doe. Anyway we weren't the first ones to find the place. Floating around the Cauldron, derelict in orbit, was what we thought at first was a space station." Crichton glanced at his audience to see if they'd guess, but they were both too busy listening to what he was saying.

"You would have known it, if you saw it. Two big disks set on a center column." Crichton rapped his knuckles loudly on the coffee table.

"You found the _Hades_ in orbit around this Cauldron?" Adama demanded forgetting his own promise to himself, to let Crichton finish, before he asked any questions. "What was it doing there? Was there any combat damage?"

"Calmly 'Obi Wan Kenobi' calmly, all will be revealed." Crichton soothed the aggregated Fleet Admiral. "There was some old damage, but it looked to us like the robots had already repaired everything they needed to. As to what they were doing there, well there was quite a bit of scanning, sensor and sampling equipment around. Aeryn and I figured they were investigating the Cauldron. Like I said it's a very odd little planet. But whatever they found, it didn't agree with them at all. They were all dead as Dodo's."

"Anyway we needed a ship and since it 'Wasn't a Moon' and we thought it was a 'Space Station'." Crichton stopped for a second waiting for the laugh. Uncomprehending silence was his answer. Damm! that would have had them rolling in the isles at Canaveral. Crichton thought to himself.

(It wouldn't have. The best he could have looked forward to were groans and maybe getting paper cups thrown at him. But Crichton honestly believes it was funny)

Crichton frowned slumping back in his chair, disappointed with the lack of response. Suddenly he brightened and was thinking furiously, completely ignoring Adama and Roslin

He wasn't about to drop the Colonial's on an unsuspecting Earth anytime soon. But obviously something had to be done about the poor state of education among his Colonial cousins.

It was barely tolerable that his friends from the Uncharted Territories didn't get his jokes and movie references, they at least had the excuse of being Aliens, but humans? Nope not having it! They're a freaking space going civilization, for crying out loud! Genetic memory or something should cover this stuff.

"What couldn't be born, must be Bettered! As Grandma Crichton used to say." Crichton muttered to himself in English.

He had a rough idea where Earth was now, after over a year working with the Colonial astronomy charts, that the Colonial and the Kobolians before them, had been gathering for over a thousand years. Studying the skies and navigating amongst them. With Pilots and Rovhu's help he'd tracked down some recognizable constellations. Crichton thought he'd narrowed it down to nice little, easily search able area.

It was a depressingly long way away, even further away than when he'd been in the UT's. But with the Colonials, Kobolian FTL drive, Hetch drive and Starburst at his disposal, it was definitely reachable.

Right there and then, Crichton decided to send a expedition to Earth ASAP. It wouldn't be for months, possible years. But these poor people needed help, and they needed it soon.

Laura Roslin and William Adama stared in bewilderment at Crichton's bizarre actions. He'd stopped right in the middle of his dialog and stared intently at the ceiling for a good thirty seconds, muttering to himself in some Alien language and now seemed to be doodling on the table. Tracing out incomprehensible figures and shapes, on the wooden surface with his finger.

Paula Torins frowned at her CO's antics. She had only seen Crichton go this manic a few times, usually Aeryn Sun was there to control him. She and Aeryn had talked about what she should do if Crichton went too overboard and Paula wasn't looking forward to slapping her superior officer around the back of the head (hard), in front of Fleet Admiral Adama and President Roslin.

After a minutes thought, plans whizzing through his head, John dismissed his new strategy to introduce the Colonials to pop culture.

He'd think about it later.

Getting back on track, John Crichton looked up at the Colonials. They were both looking a bit frazzled and Crichton could sympathize. The details of his life since he'd been dropped in the middle of the Uncharted Territories freaked him out as well, sometimes.

Giving the two Colonial leaders his best reassuring grin, John got back to his story.

"Well that ship in orbit looked like the only game in town, but we had no way to up get up there. Rovhu was all busted up, and we had no transport pods. Then we had a lucky brake, about two kilometers from where Rovhu had crashed, we found a landed shuttle. Big boxy thing, absolutely stuffed to the gills with switched off bronze and silver robots." Adama again started to interrupt, but reconsidered after a cautious glance at the animated Crichton.

"Well we didn't need robots just then, but we did need a ship. So we set to work, Aeryn has gotten pretty good at the tech stuff over the Cycles, and we went all over that thing. Trying to find what the problem was and nada! That ship was in prefect working order, except that it didn't. The only reason it wouldn't go was that somehow every iota of energy had been sucked right out of it. Well we finally got the energizers reinitialized after a bit of effort. I jump started it with D'Argo's Qualta Blade, and if you ever tell him that, I'll deny it."

"Now we had a ship, but it wasn't a very big ship, not with more and more Xarai popping up every couple of minutes." Crichton stopped and drained another cup full of tea.

"So what did you do?" Laura asked entranced by Crichton's story despite herself.

"Ah well we had this old girl." Crichton waved to the surrounding walls. "Sitting floating around above our heads, with a small fleet parked on her decks. We got one of her decent sized ships going and started to explore. We needed to find a more normal planet bad. We had nothing, no food, and no water and let me tell you, you can live on 'Goo' if you've got to, but it tastes like dren."

"So we looked around and what we found, only a couple of star systems away was one of your old anchorage's. It was mothballed and still in pretty good shape. After poking around, and a bit of work, we had some coordinates to where we hoped we could find something better than fifty year old, freeze dried MRE's. And the thing about Military Meals Ready To Eat. They may be ready to eat, but after fifty years you really, really! Shouldn't. They had a little more taste than 'Goo' but the time spent on the porcelain throne afterwards, that was discouraging."

"So anyway we arrived in the Colonies. I set about collecting stuff we'd need to get the Hades up and running. The Cylon's arrived and Frelled that plan up good and proper, and we've have been scrambling around ever since, trying to save what we can."

"There you have it ladies and gentleman the Story of the Moyan Group, on fast forward maybe, but all present and correct." John said resting back in his chair; he looked at his stunned audience.

There you have it. John thought, the Story of the Moyan Group. A fair percentage of truth, a good mix of half-truths and the bare minimum of lies.

_Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Lieutenant Karl "Helo" Agathon traced the route ahead with his eyes, scraggly bushes, covering a steep incline (nearly a cliff) of loosely piled shale. It looked a lot tougher than he remembered it, and he and Sharon weren't anything like as well equipped as he'd been a year and a half ago. When the then 'Junior' Lieutenant Agathon had scaled his bases notoriously dangerous East side, on a dare.

Now he had the wrong boots, no climbing tools and the only rope they could find was the short length of nylon, they were using to tie each other together. They'd been working up a narrow gully that ran almost all the way up to the base's plateau for twenty minutes now, and they'd soon loose the what little cover the brightening pre-dawn shadow gave them.

Karl cursed as a rock moved under his foot again, and he was forced down on one knee. Sharon looked back over her shoulder as the rope connecting them tugged at her waist, but Karl waved her on irritably; they didn't have time for Sharon to come back whenever he stumbled. Besides 'Helo' doubted his fragile ego could take being helped up by the short pregnant brunet one more time, even if she was a Cylon.

A Cylon! 'Helo' still couldn't get his head around it. One of his best friends, someone he loved dearly and the mother of his child, was a Cylon. A rebel Cylon maybe who was on his and Humanity's side for the sake of her daughter (Karl had told her it was a boy, but she refused to listen) She'd shown her loyalty's pretty convincingly when she'd killed another Cylon, her exact copy who'd been about to shoot him.

Since then they'd been on the run, dodging through Delphi City chased by Centurions and the Human/Cylon copies like Sharon. Sometimes, it had been more of them that looked exactly like her, other times the Centurions were led by a skinny blonde woman or a man that looked disturbingly like the Priest, Captain Cavil, from back on Galactica.

Now they needed supplies, anti-radiation meds for him, Sharon claimed she didn't need them, ammunition for their weapons and 'Helo' wouldn't mind something with a little more stopping power. Taking on Centurions with his sidearm, even the 45mm Service Blaster with armor piercing rounds was getting old, real fast.

That's why, when their course had landed them on the side of Delphi City closest to Stranight Base, he'd decided to try and raid it. Karl knew it well, he'd been stationed here at the tiny CDF Base for six months before being re-assigned to the _Valkyria_ and from there to _Galactica_.

Karl levered himself to his feet and started inching his way forwards again. Sharon up ahead had passed out of sight, disappearing over the ridge. If 'Helo' remembered right she should be right under a small gap in the bases chain link fence.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System_.

"Why?" It was the first thing that came to Laura's mind after spending a minute in the silent meeting room. Trying to comprehend what she'd just been told.

"Why what?" Crichton asked.

"Why did you stay and try to help? You were obviously going to go back to these Uncharted Territories, without contacting us. Why didn't you just go?" President Roslin asked.

"We were here?" Crichton said a bit dubiously. "Seemed like a good idea at the time?"

_Archron, Refugee Fleet, Matock, Redline System._

Inspection duty sucked. Susan Usen thought, as she made her way through the old ships dusty crawl ways. The _Archron_ was the worst assignment (_Serenity_ had its supporter's for that title, but most agreed that the cobbled together Firebird had nothing on the old Atlas class Troop Transport) so Susan had felt honor bound to take it for herself, she'd come to quickly regret the decision.

"Keep together people. We've got another thirty metres of this before we make the cross-junction. Watch your heads!" Captain Usen ordered. Susan's flashlight joined the bright beams of her teammates, scanning into the darkness between deck and inner hull, as the other eight members of her survey party edged forward in her wake.

The Atlas troop transport's were older than the First Cylon War. Dating back to the time when Cylon troops were regularly deployed by the various Colonial governments to fight whatever other Colony they were at odds with. Designed to get an entire Legion of the cybernetic soldier's on site, it was basically a giant collection of boxes arranged in a flat pyramid with the top cut off.

Each of the twenty boxes was big enough to contain up to three thousand Centurions, standing in tightly packed rows on their charging plates. A main level of ten made the base, lined up together to form an empty rectangle cut in half, like a letter C facing a mirror. Between the two groups of five sat the ridiculously overpowered drives, needed to make the Atlas class the largest Colonial ship to ever be able to land and take off from a planetary gravity well, and to do it at combat speeds.

Sitting above this main deck, were six more compartments slightly smaller than the ready rooms below. These six were the Cylon repair bays controlled by IL class Cylon supervisors, where light damage that didn't require the factory, was taken care off. Then up one more level, three storage compartments, designed to hold the replacement ammunition and spare parts for the ships cargo, and the ships bridge (another plain box really) facing forward. The huge engine room making up a spine running along the ship's base and curving up to cover the ship's stern. If it had been in anything like original condition, Susan would have been scandalized that it wasn't in a museum.

"Frakking garbage!" The muffled shout coming from behind her quickly denigrated into lurid swearing that 'Char' decided she couldn't hear. Corporal Morse was a good man, but he had been chucked out of the CDF for a reason, his temper was legendary. The six and a half foot tall _Medusa_ engineering rating, was having an even worse time of it in the cramped tight crawl spaces than Susan was.

Unfortunately the original clean and orderly design was long gone. Captured during the first Cylon war the ship-poor, newly organized Colonial Defense Forces had tried to make use of it. Adding jerry-rigged comforts (like life support) to make it livable it had been used first as a troop transport. But humans couldn't survive the g-forces that had made so large a target workable for Cylon's, and after being heavily damaged and forced to abort its first mission, the _Archron's_ uses were re-thought.

It had been used as a freighter, a hospital ship and a mine layer. But the overpowered engines were diabolical fuel hogs, every position it found in the growing Fleet was soon filled as more economical, purpose built Ships became available.

After the war it was sold off as surplus, bought by some budding entrepreneur who'd sunk hundreds of thousands of cubits into it. Rebuilding one of the most recognizable Cylon ships, used regularly in their vicious attacks on the Colony's, as a passenger liner was probably a mistake.

People stayed away in droves and the _Archron_ was soon sold again.

This is where Captain Susan 'Char' Usen's headache really started. Seeking to make the overpowered ship profitable, its new owners decided to expand its storage space until its mass, was a better match for its huge power output.

During a year long stay at the Virgon orbital shipyards the forward, port and starboard faces each grew a lattice of new superstructure, as extra cargo holds were built onto the hull. The new port and starboard holds were just under half the size of the original ship. While the forward section reached forward nearly a thousand metre's, making the once square and squat pyramid into a misshapen T.

How long the _Archron_ served the Colony's as a super freighter was unknown, its logs and records were long gone. What was known, was that twenty years ago it had been found abandoned, floating in orbit around Custos, a mineral rich planet on the edges of Colonial space. There the _Archron's_ new life as a Tramp Anchorage, and miners living quarters/town began. Along with just about every insane modification Susan had ever heard of, and dozens of others that had obviously been invented especially for the _Archron_. Every inch of which had to be checked, and checked by somebody who knew the difference between "Hey it works, and only catches on fire every week or so." and "Safe."

Right now Captain Susan 'Char' Usen's, CAG of the Battlestar _Medusa_ was leading her squad through the crawl space bowls of the very oldest section of the ship. Underneath one of the original Cylon staging area's, squeezing between the power conduit's. The conduit's had once led up to the recharging platforms the ranks of Centurions had stood on, as they waited to be sent out to fight other Cylon's for their human masters. The retractable frames that had held the Cylon's in place during the violent landings had been stripped out half a century ago. But an incredible variety and amount of trash had been deposited over the last few decades, filling any gaps their removal might have made.

This left 'Char' pushing herself through mounds of dust and debris on her hands and knees, as she led her mixed team of pilots and engineers towards the power relays that directed energy into the "newer" areas.

From there her people would split up into groups of three, heading port, starboard and forward, taking readings on every piece of equipment they could reach and inspecting joints and welds as they went.

It was a miserable way to spend a duty shift and Susan was thankful that this was her last day at it. When they finished here, she could dump the six pages of desperately needed repairs, and the ten pages of recommended replacements on the _Archron's_ Chief Engineer. Have a long hot shower, and get back to her Vipers where she belonged. And next time the Commander asked for volunteers to survey antique civilian ships she'd tell Aeryn Sun to Frak off. Quietly after the Commander had left the room of course, but she'd really mean it.

But showers were for tonight. Right now Susan had another eight hours crawling though garbage wearing a respirator, to try and keep the dust out of her lungs, to look forward to.

The eighteen-year-old pilot cursed as she bumped her head against another piece of machinery, hanging from the low ceiling. Then she was backing up hurriedly as whatever it was flashed like an ark welder and started to spray sparks over her. Franticly she started brushing the small embers off her environmental suit, before they could melt through the tough material.

"Frak! Corporal get up here." Susan quickly pulled the small fire extinguisher, all survey members wore one, from her belt and gave the mess of metal and cables a blast to quite it down.

The clingy spray of non-conductive powder covered her target and the rain of blue sparks slowed and stopped. Now Susan had to get busy slapping out any bits of rubbish that had caught fire, while Corporal Morse squeezed up beside her. Aiming his torch at the boxy device on the ceiling covered in bright white powder, the _Medusa_ Engineer extended a long collapsible metal probe. And started carefully touching exposed wires, watching the probes display, trying to find the live ones, amongst the corroded tangle.

"Captain this is bad, if this thing is live it means we'll have to check them all, that's another days work at least." The large Caprican hadn't enjoyed his time in the old ships tight crawl ways, and was not looking to extend his stay.

"I know Morse, I should have thought of this. These old Cylon systems were supposed to be disabled during war, who knows how much time they had to do it in, before they needed this piece of 'Dren' (1) on the front lines." Susan frowned. Even if the CDF hadn't done a thorough job during the war it was unlikely this problem had lasted fifty odd years.

This ship had been in and out of docks and messed with by Engineers both expert and amateur for its entire service. Someone would have noticed if the Cylon charging stations were still powered and drawing juice. It was much more likely that since then, someone else had re-connected this single unit, for some reason. They'd probably discover that this mess was diverting power to an illegal gambling house or brothel.

It didn't mater though, they would have to find out where the power was coming from, where it was going and everything in between. Then write the whole thing up in a report. Then they, just to add to the fun, had check each and every other unit, just to make sure nobody had messed with them either.

"Captain Usen; this is _Archron_ control, come in please." The scratchy voice broke in on her Engineer's next comment, sounding over the team's headsets.

Susan fiddled with the controls on the radio strapped to her waist. While she watched her team work.

They couldn't use their normal Medusa issued CDF headset communication equipment here. The _Archron_ had been built forty years too early to mount any of the currently compatible boosters and repeater's, that the _Medusa's_ modern tech used. And up grades for civilian internal COM's was right down on the 'to do' list. Until they got around to it, they had to rely on the brick-like walky talkies, just like the old ships crew.

Finally Susan managed to switch channels on the thing, flipping over from the frequency her people had been using, to one dedicated to the ships command and control. So she could answer the _Archron's_ bridge.

"Usen here, _Archron_ control, go ahead." 'Char' winced, as the sound of her own voice echoed back through the speaker. Muffled by her respirator mask and scrambled by the old-tech radio equipment.

"Captain Usen, we've just received order's for you from Fleet command, on the _Pegasus_. You are to turn the survey over to your second in command and report to Admiral Cain's office as soon as possible."

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

"I have a question Commander." William Adama said, fixing a dark look on the _Hades_ CO.

"Go for it Fleet Admiral. What do you want to know." Crichton answered.

"Where is Sharon Valerii?" Adama demanded.

_Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

The two fugitives sprinted away from the scant cover of Stranight Base's wire mesh fence and flattened themselves against the rough concrete walls of a vehicle bay. Both Sharon and Karl clutched their Blaster's at the ready, as they waited tersely to see if they'd been detected. 'Helo' glanced at his watch, awkwardly shielding it, with his right hand holding the heavy pistol, as he tapped on the light. 0541 another forty to forty-five minutes until the sun rose and Dawn broke this time of year. Not a lot of time to get in and out again, but 'Helo' was counting on his familiarity with the base to keep things running smoothly.

From what they had been able to see there were two Centurions on each gate, front and side. Two more standing guard outside the Base headquarters, and a seventh was walking a perimeter in a wide circle around the base's buildings. That was the one they were worried about, it took just under ten minutes to make its circuit, it had been out of site just over two, that left them six or so to get under cover.

Now that they'd made it past the fence all they needed to do, was get into the right warehouse, open a sealed vault where the medical supplies were kept and grab what they needed. Without attracting the notice of the base's Cylon's.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

"Ah good question, right about now 'Boomer' must be on Rovhu on the Cauldron, getting a little medical condition sorted out." Crichton told the Fleet Admiral after a short pause.

"What medical condition?" Adama demanded.

"Look this is a awkward! One of those 'old boss new boss' type, of situations. Sharon had some problems, that she didn't think could be handled in the Colonial Defense Forces. So she resigned and signed on with the Moyan Group." Crichton tried to explain, without letting the cat out of the bag.

William Adama frowned, this wasn't what he wanted. But Crichton was skipping around the point. Bill Adama was a ship Commander, first last and always, and he looked after his people. Then there were the reports he'd received through Colonel Tigh, and Fleet Admiral Adama couldn't let a possible threat to the Fleet go without investigating.

"I've had reports that Sharon was having concerns, concerns about her own sanity. That she was beginning to suspect that she might be …. Under Cylon influence." He finally said.

Crichton looked at the older man. He'd hoped to wait until Sharon was around before they got into this. A silly idea, now that he thought about it. He could hardly expect the crew of the Galactica not to notice he'd stolen one of their Raptor Pilots.

_Archron, Refugee Fleet, Matock, Redline System._

Susan reached up through the deck opening and took a firm hold of a handrail, before pulling herself up out of the Archron's maintenance crawlways. The bulky breathing gear and environmental suit making an already difficult task, even more awkward. The heavy tool belt didn't help ether.

But what nearly sent her tumbling back through the hatch, was the blast of high-pressure air that caught her right on the masks visor. Knocking her head back, and staggering her before she could brace herself. Just when she'd finally managed to stand up.

Stumbling back a step before she got her balance, the _Medusa's_ commander air group looked around dazedly. Finding herself not in the empty hallway she remembered, but in a prefab decontamination tent some clever _Archron_ crewmembers had set up.

"Frak! Watch it! You nearly had me back down there!" Susan snarled, in no mood for the civilians little games.

"Sorry girl, Captains orders! No one who's been down there gets out, without being decontaminated." One of the two, scruffily dressed crewmen told the CDF Captain.

"That's Captain Usen to you, not girl!" Susan had run into this since day one, on the _Medusa_. Some people just couldn't except that she was doing her job, no matter what age she was.

"Right sorry Captain Usen, could you please take off that suit. Cant have you tracking all that garbage through the ship. Just leave it here we'll bag it up and send it down to environmental to be properly cleaned." The Archron hand said with grin.

Susan stared at the man a moment.

"You're kidding!" The suit was hot and stuffy, and she'd dressed appropriately. Susan and her team had set themselves up a small changing room as close to the access hatch as they could. Unfortunately as close as they could, was about a hundred meters through the _Archron's_ corridors

"No Ma'am! Captain's orders, the Ships Doc made a real song and dance about it." The other man said, also starting to grin. He'd just caught a few hints of Susan's curves through the bulky suit.

Captain Susan 'Char' Usen glared at the two grinning men for a second, then ripped the heavy respirator mask from her head, releasing a cascade of sweaty tangled, dirty blonde hair. There was no way she was letting a pair of space tramps get to her, she had been on Picon during the Holocaust, boarded the _Botanical Explorer_ and helped the Marines take it back, with just a crappy little nine millimeter service automatic. Come through two vicious fighter furball's in her Viper. Taking on the best the Cylons had to throw at her, she'd watched friends die and worlds burn! She'd be dammed if she'd let these two mess with her.

Let them play their stupid games, she had a job to do.

As they looked into the furious teenagers eyes, the two _Archron_ crewmen grins slowly slipped off their faces. They'd been in the Custos system during the Holocaust and the _Archron_ had jumped before they'd ever seen a Cylon. But they'd been on the run since then, and the CDF from the Destroyers and _Serenity_ had been frequent visitors to the ship. As they stared at the young pilot they saw things that shouldn't be in a teenage girls eyes, and both felt a chill run down their spines.

"Get on with it!" No more snarling or shouting, cold and quiet Susan started undoing the suits fastening's. Ignoring the two, she turned her mind to her new orders.

As dust and decades of accumulated garbage was blown off of her 'Char' started stripping off her gear. She needed to change into a clean uniform quick, then get down to the _Archron's_ hangar deck.

Admiral's. Even, or maybe especially 'Rear Admiral's, weren't known for their patients when dealing with junior officers. Especially when said officers where eighteen-year-olds, half a year out of the Academy.

The _Archron's_ populated decks were in much better shape than the dren she'd just been wading through. It was old and beaten and the scared deck and wall panels should have been repaired or replaced years ago. But it was clean and the air smelt pure, not musty with a hint of mold that spoke of an environmental system in need of an overhaul.

'Char' finished stripping down to pants and a bra, all she'd had on under the hot environmental suit, and took off for her teams changing room. She didn't even glance at the two _Archron_ men as she pushed her way out of the Decon tent.

Luckily it wasn't that far and it was a relatively straight run, so she didn't have to wander around in her underwear for long. Still being an eighteen-year-old, reasonably attractive young woman. She collected her fair share of leers and wolf-whistles, as she made her way through the crowded corridors. And as her anger cooled down, her embarrassment started to rise.

It was a relief to scramble into the few cabins the CDF inspection team had taken over, while they were stationed on the _Archron_.

Susan went straight to her locker and took out her uniform. Quickly pulling on dark blue pants and black shoes and throwing on her uniform tunic, she tried to make herself look presentable. With a quick glance in a mirror to make sure all her rank badges citations, and unit patches were present and correct. The young Captain set off for the hangar bay.

More comfortable now, that she wasn't half naked, Captain Usen made her way through the maze of corridors and passageway that over the years, different owners with different plans and just plan opportunity and need, had made of the once basic floor plan of the Atlas class troop transport.

The utilitarian color schemes of grey or chrome with dashes of Cylon bronze were long gone. Doors to private cabins where brightly decorated in a rainbow of hues. Painted at their owner's whim, some of these people Susan knew, had lived here for ten to twenty years, since the Archron began its life as a miners anchorage. There were people all over the place, the _Archron_ had been the community center of the _Griffin_ Fleet and still served that role now. People may have lived on a Passenger Cruiser or a converted cargo ship, but they needed something more social than a cabin or deck space to throw a blanket and a cafeteria, that was often all the refugee ships could provide.

Back when all she'd served were five thousand odd miners the _Archron_ had boasted a town hall, Triad Courts, a restaurant and four saloons (officially there were also dozens of businesses that the Archron's management didn't talk about.). Now with the arrival of the _Pegasus_ Fleet the old ship catered to over fifty thousand people. The _Pegasus_ Fleet had brought competition as well, in the form of the Dionysus Class Superliner, _Star Queen_ not as big as the _Archron_ but a lot richer and snazzy looking. The floating resort had more deck space devoted to entertainment with full casino's, two pool's and a movie theatre stocked with all the colonies latest releases and old favorites. While fully half of the _Archron_ was taken up by warehouse's and living quarters.

Of course the _Star Queen_ was still recovering from the holes blown into her by the Cylons, so she wasn't yet cutting far into the _Archron's_ business.

This all left the ship crowded and Susan had had to use her elbows and her height several times, when her uniform alone didn't open a path for her.

So it was nearly an hour after she received her new orders, pulling her from inspection duty. That the Viper pilot finally made it to _Archron's_ hangar deck and found the _Pegasus's_ shuttle waiting there for her.

The ship waiting for her was one of the _Pegasus's_ Mark Nine Transporter Shuttle's. Bigger than a Raptor, twenty-three meters and fifty four centimeter's long, three meters ninety centimeters tall plus landing gear. If Susan remembered her lessons at the Artemis valley Academy correctly.

The small spaceship was popular in the Colonial Defense Forces, Columbia class Battlestar's like the _Medusa_ carried twelve of them as normal equipment. A high set cockpit, with the hull sweeping back underneath, widening out to the passenger compartment. Right behind the cockpit the passenger compartment took over a third of the shuttles hull. Then a large cargo area, separating the passengers from the drives and main thrusters.

Passengers entered their compartment through its own personnel access hatch, while the cargo compartment was fitted with a set of big, all but covering the full height and length of the shuttles 'middle' section, horizontal opening armored, double doors.

The drive section at the ships rear was more rounded than the angled and straight edged cockpit and passenger sections, four eight meter long thrusters set into a molded fuselage, arranged around the main normal space drive.

The Mark Nine's weren't normally FTL capable, unless they'd been specifically refitted, the room saved on the drive and fuel devoted to cargo space, whether people or freight.

This one was obviously never meant to fly combat, colored stark white with the _Pegasus's_ coat of arms painted boldly in gold at the end of the passenger cabin. Red highlights ran down its side, announcing registration number and unit designation.

It stood on one of the crowded flight deck lift heads. The ship was ready to go, none of the deck crew or fuel hose's that newly landed ship's gathered around themselves, all it needed was to be raised up to the hangar track above, where it could maneuver out out into space. Susan trotted up to an enlisted crewman standing by the passenger door and returned the man's salute.

After checking ID and confirming that this was indeed her shuttle Captain Usen made her way forward, the hatch through to the cockpit was closed so she settled down in one of the window side chairs. The interior was set up much like a civilian passenger liner, rows of chair's arranged around a central isle. It was even carpeted, leading Susan to believe that this shuttle was reserved for officers, the craft meant to move non-commissioned and ratings around, were a lot more bare and utilitarian.

The slight jolt as the lift started caught Susan off guard. But she settled back and watched out the porthole as the deck fell away.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

Fleet Admiral Adama and President Roslin sat alone in the small conference room. Commander Crichton and Colonel Torins had left the two to their thoughts nearly ten minutes ago. The two Galactica Fleet leaders had had a ton of new information dumped on them in the last hour and were still stunned.

"Do you believe him Bill?" Laura asked finally breaking the silence.

"Which part Laura? Gods." This from the normally sceptical Adama. "It's all unbelievable!"

President Roslin gave her Fleet Admiral a worried glance, it wasn't like him to be so confounded by things. She found his natural calm, one of his most likable characteristics. But the revelations about Sharon Valerii had shaken him. One of his pilots and also someone he'd grown close to during the decommissioning of the _Galactica_. Someone he'd put a lot of personal trust into, hadn't been who or even what, he'd thought she was. It was as if she walked right up to him and shot him in the stomach.

"About Earth?" Laura said cautiously. She knew Adama didn't have a lot riding on the Thirteenth Colony, it was just a place to him. So for him at least, it was a safe neutral topic.

Bill Adama dragged his thoughts back to the amazing story Crichton had told them.

"Yes, yes I do. I believe, he believes it anyway. And we have Cottle's opinion on the Aliens, so know he's been somewhere that wasn't Colonial Space. He's certainly strange enough to have gone through all that." Adama said.

"As for the rest of it? I'm not sure, but I can not think of a more plausible explanation. I'm not fully convinced that he's the right man to be in Command of an asset like the _Hades_ though. And the _Medusa_ a Battlestar in the hands of a mercenary, Alien or not that doesn't set well with me."

"There's nothing we can do about that Bill, I've been speaking to the people here. He's got his Moyan's in dozens of key positions and if it came down to a choice between the rightful government of the Twelve Colonies and John Crichton and Aeryn Sun, I'm not too sure where the CDF and CMC people of the _Hades_ would stand. Not to mention the normal citizens, a lot of them, even his political rivals on the _Hades_ council, think the man can do no wrong."

_Shuttle 09 Pegasus, Refugee Fleet, Matock, Redline System._

'Char' looked out at the combined fleet as her shuttle made its zig-zagging path through the congested space, among the ships. Thirty-seven civilian ships, containing just over thirty five thousand Colonial refugees. With the fifteen and a half thousand CDF service men and women serving on the two Battlestar's, the Heavy Cruiser, Destroyers, Frigates and the poor bastards still stuffed into every nook and cranny on the _Serenity_.

Thirty five thousand Colonial citizens, It was nearly as many again as had been saved by the Commanders during the Holocaust. And right now it looked like every single one of them was either out on one of the hulls, welding and patching. Or piloting one of the bizarre assortment of shuttles and small utility craft, navigating in between the starships. It looked like they had at least one of every type and model ever used by the Colonials.

Spotlights played over everything. Looking for things to fix, or illuminating the area, as already identified problems were being worked on. Civilian and CDF personal powered space-armors flitted from exposed machinery, to small craft, and back again. Usually dragging replacement parts around behind them on tow cables.

Everywhere pieces of high tech equipment was being removed from ships and inspected, pulled apart, and rebuilt. DRADIS arrays, engines, normal space drives, maneuvering thrusters, reactors, energizers even FTL drives were being stripped down and serviced. Parts from the Cylon deport, were being dolled by the Flattops as fast as they could be unpacked and identified. While the raw material and incompatible Cylon systems were being fed into makeshift forges and the workshops, on board the Battlestar's and other large ships melted down or broken up. To be turned into anything useful the technicians, machinists and engineers could think of.

Ahead of the shuttle Susan could her see destination, the bulk of the Battlestar _Pegasus_. The massive, nearly three-kilometer long, Mercury class Battlestar was lite up like a small sun. Whole sections of armored hull had been removed to expose the giants FTL drives and energizers. Techs and engineers had been working franticly to repair damage that pre-dated the Holocaust. Racing to get the huge ship battle ready, before she was called on to fight the Cylon's once again. Sitting in formation with the Mercury class Battlestar, the Crete class Heavy Cruiser the _Trident's_ six hundred and thirty-meter length looked tiny and the subdued. Work going on across her hull as cannon were repaired and armor rebuilt, nearly invisible in the shadows cast by the larger warship.

Around this frantic hive of activity the other CDF warships patrolled, the Frigates and Destroyers standing guard while the other ships prepared themselves for the journey to join up with the _Hades_ and the _Galactica_. Above them all like a brooding dragon the massive bulk of the Columbia class Battlestar _Medusa_ floated. Her DRADIS and Moyan sub-space sensors straining for a hint of the enemy, and her launch tubes filled with Vipers ready to launch at the first site of danger.

_Shuttle 09_ lined up on the _Pegasus's_ starboard landing pod and smoothly passed between the landing tracts armored walls. The shift from the dark of deep space, even lit up by all the work lamps, spotlights and welders, and the brightly illuminated interior flashed by.

The shuttle maneuvered around, to descend onto a lift head, its landing gear extending to catch the shuttle's weight. There was a slight disorientation as the Battlestar's artificial-gravity field fought and started to overpower the shuttle's, then pilots disengaged _Shuttle 09's_ systems and the landing gear caught the suddenly multi ton shuttle, as it set down.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

"What about his plans 'Bo-Peep' and 'Exodus' do you still recommend we follow them." Laura asked.

"Yes." Adama answered immediately. Both plans were little more than general outlines really, completely bare of any specific Fleet movements or Ship deployments, beyond the _Medusa's_ mission to search out other refugee groups. But they were a damm site better than what they'd had to work with before. Which had come down to basically 'Run Away'.

That was the core of 'Exodus' as well. But at least with 'Exodus' it would be a fighting retreat, carrying their wounded with them. Not the panicked flight, which seemed to be all they could manage now.

_Stranight Base Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Sharon knelt down beside the vault door and pulled her utility knife from one of the dozens of pockets lining her flight suit. Folding the blade out until it locked in position, Sharon examined her target. The computer terminal was a dull grey box sitting half way up the wall, mounted next to the door. Simple ruggedly designed, like most CDF hardware, just a box, a small keypad, a screen and a slot for the card reader, almost invisible tucked underneath was a slightly lighter grey square about two centimeters long and one wide.

With a deft flick with her knife, the Cylon woman dug out the plastic dust cover and exposed an access port set in the base of the computer terminal. Now came the hard bit, from yet another pocket Sharon pulled a meter long length of optic fibre, she'd salvaged from a electrical store they'd hidden in the week before.

The Cylon Raptor pilot took a deep calming breath to steady herself, before she deliberately pushed up the left sleeve of her uniform jacket. Making a fist with her left hand. Sharon raised her eyes and looked at her companion.

'Helo' was crouched down by her side, pistol at the ready. He was concentrating hard on the opposite end of the hallway they were in, and didn't see when Sharon offered him the knife.

"Karl! Come on." Sharon hissed, speaking quietly, barely above a whisper.

Karl 'Helo' Agathon jerked as if she'd stabbed him, and his eye's darted back to the woman by his side. To be confronted by the sight of the knife she held out to him. 'Helo' winced internally. This was in no way, shape, or form his favorite part of the plan.

"Right." The _Galactica_ pilot holstered his blaster and took the knife Sharon passed to him. Sharon stuck one end of the fibre optic cable into her mouth and grabbed the loose end in her right hand, making sure a good five centimeters stuck out between her fingers. Then she raised her left arm and presented her bared forearm to 'Helo'.

Karl Agathon grabbed the brunettes arm, just bellow the elbow and placed the blade of the knife on a black X, that Sharon had drawn in permanent marker, the night before. Then he stopped, hesitating for a second, and looked Sharon in the eyes.

"Go on, do it!" Sharon urged. Mumbling around the cable she held between her teeth.

"Frak!" 'Helo' stabbed in, hand clamped on Sharon's arm, to control the reflex jerk, as she tried to pull away. The sharp blade easily slid through skin and flesh. Sharon grunted and bit down on the tough plastic, she held between her teeth, fighting with all her concentration not to wrench her arm away from Karl's hold.

'Helo' repressed a shudder of his own. Carefully he the cut the knife across and pulled it out as smoothly as possible. Blood welled up and started running over Sharon's arm, quickly covering Karl's hand and dripping to the concrete floor.

Sharon was in motion as soon as 'Helo' removed the knife. Quickly the Cylon fed the end of the fibre optic cable into the wound, eyes closed and teeth gritted, she pushed it in deeper until she felt it butt up against something, something that in a pure human wouldn't be there.

"There! Now pressure and don't move!" Sharon released her hold on the cable sticking into her arm, letting 'Helo' grab on, packing wound dressings around the wire, and taking a firm grip around the bloody cut.

Sharon ignored her arm and the pain, as she took the loose end of the fibre optic cable from between her clenched teeth. One quick puff of breath, blowing it clean to make sure the end was clear of saliva and she fed it carefully into the security computers access port.

Sharon's eyes glazed as her focus turned inwards and 'Helo' shifted his worried look between the end of the corridor, where any patrol of Centurions would appear, and the woman by his side. He honestly didn't know which freaked him out more.

It was less than a minute before Sharon sighed and the locked vault door made a series of clanks as bolts retracted.

Sharon shook her head. Trying to shake off the disorientation of moving from a world of program code, back to the real world. Carefully she pulled the fibre optic cable from the computer and wrapped it tightly around her wounded arm, trying to keep the connection bellow her skin intact. They'd need it again before they were through, and she'd rather they didn't have to cut any more holes in her.

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

"How are you going to handle the Hades council?" Bill asked as he and Roslin exited the meeting room out into the small hallway.

"From what little time I've spent with them they seem eager to deal with the Quorum. We will need to hold new election sometime, but everybody agrees that its best to wait until the Medusa gets back." Laura answered. The pair from _Galactica_ both paused, as they came to the door leading out into the main conference room.

The building may have been built of fabricated metal plates welded and bolted together, but the _Hades_ civilians had put a lot of effort into making their Council offices as civilized and agreeable as possible. The new comers had been stunned by some of the touches of comfort, they'd been able to include. Where had they gotten the carpet from? The wood paneling in the more important rooms? Just the paint that had been used in this one building alone, was well beyond the capability's of the _Galactica_ fleet. Unless they'd been lucky enough to have a supply stored on one of the ships, the people Bill Adama and Laura Roslin led had had to learn to live without it.

When asked, it had been explained that the people of the _Hades_ fleet had a different philosophy. If they needed something and didn't have some laying around, they asked Crichton.

You wouldn't get precisely what you'd asked for. But usually, you had a better than even chance, of getting something that did the job.

The carpet was a good example.

When the team, that had been working on decorating the new Council building, couldn't find a handy cargo ship filled with carpet. One of their members had told someone, who'd told someone else, who'd been in the right place and the right time, to casually mention it to the _Hades_ commander.

The result had been a small chemical factory (now owned by some soon to be wealthy refugee's, who'd been chemists and students back on the colonies). A small factory that turned Cylon plastic components, into tough plastic fibers which were then made into a hundred and one different products. Including carpet.

Plans were already in place with the mining ships, for when their supply of Cylon equipment ran out.

_Battlestar Pegasus, Matock, Redline System._

Captain Usen nodded to the two Marine guards standing in place, outside the cabin door and knocked politely.

"Enter." A confident woman's voice called from inside.

With one last glance around the Admiral's secretary's office Susan squared her shoulders and gently (not to fast, not to slow, keep it casual) opened the hatch and walked in.

The office was larger than its counterpart on the _Medusa_, but not by much. Susan was only mildly surprised to see Commander Sun already here waiting for her. Whatever was going on, it would have to have included her CO.

Aeryn Sun was sitting in one of two chairs arranged in front of the room's main focus, a magnificent old looking wooden desk. Behind the desk sat Rear Admiral Cain, still as intimidating as last time Susan had seen her. Classic Tauronese features smooth, while intelligent dark eyes studied the young pilot. Susan wished mightily that their first meeting hadn't been at gun point, with the _Medusa_ CAG threatening to order the older woman shot, if she didn't subject herself to the R.E. grenade test.

Susan presented herself in front of the wide desk, took her best attention stance and saluted the Rear Admiral.

"Ma'am!" Susan snapped crisply.

"Captain Usen, at ease. Please take a seat." Admiral Cain directed.

Susan cautiously stepped forward and settled into the other chair. Looking to her CO for any clues, Commander Sun's face was expressionless, though that she didn't look angry was a good thing. Susan quickly scanned the room hoping for some kind of inspiration, something to give her some idea what she was doing here.

The wood paneling offered nothing, from what she heard at the Academy it was almost required. Once an officer reached a certain level of seniority, if you wanted to be taken seriously you had to have deeply varnished wood paneling in your office. All the guns were different, but Susan couldn't think of what message, the neatly arranged display, was trying to convey

"I've looked through your file Captain, such as it is. Impressive, you were ridiculously young to run a Battlestar's air group, but you seem to have pulled it off." Helena Cain, nodded to the younger woman.

"Sir." Good all-purpose answer, when dealing with superior officers. Susan glanced at the file of clip cornered papers, sitting in the middle of the Rear Admiral's desk. She'd written most of first seven pages of it herself, when the XO, Major Hal Dies had been trying to get things organized on the _Medusa_, after the Holocaust.

"That's one of the reasons we have chosen you, for a new mission. Commander Sun recommended you, and after looking through this I can hardly disagree." Cain continued.

"You have heard what the rumor mill is saying about the _Pegasus's_ CAG, Gina Knight, right Susan?" Aeryn Sun asked, speaking for the first time.

'Char' eyes jerked to her Commanders, startled at the out of the blue question.

"Yes Ma'am, they saying 'Midnight' caught a round in the furball over the Tern base. But nobody's been able to get into _Pegasus's _Life Station to see her." Better to admit to listening to gossip, than to appear stupid and uninformed.

"That's a lie. One I've been encouraging, every chance I get." The _Pegasus_ CO told Susan Usen bluntly.

What the frak was she supposed to say to that? The _Medusa's_ CAG thought to herself, after a stunned second.

"Uh, why? If she wasn't hit, what is wrong with her?" Susan asked a bit tentatively, she was struggling to catch the rules of this strange interview.

Helena Cain suddenly swiveled her chair away from her two guests, turning to face the collection of a dozen or so antique and modern handguns that decorated her office wall.

"It was a cover story. The Rear Admiral didn't want Captain Knight's reputation destroyed, before we had all the answers. The truth is she didn't pass the Ragnar Effect test." Aeryn inserted smoothly, taking over the explanation, once it was obvious that Cain wouldn't.

"What!" Susan blurted out before she could stop herself. The eighteen-year-old women flushed with embarrassment as the two senior officers each fixed an un-amused eye on her.

Snapping to attention, as much as she could in the well-upholstered chair. She immediately started to apologize, only to be silenced by an irritated wave from Commander Sun.

"Never mind, lets just get on with this." Aeryn told her, though the Sebacean woman's eyes were hard and Susan knew that her boss was not happy, that she'd reacted without thinking.

"But why keep it a secret ma'am. Its dead isn't it?" Captain Usen asked after taking a breath, trying to regain some of her professionalism. She didn't notice Helena Cain's irritated twitch, at her use of the term 'It' to describe the _Pegasus _pilot.

"No, that's where the story gets a little convoluted." Aeryn Sun told her subordinate.

"Convoluted? Just shoot the frakking thing! Problem solved." Susan nearly shouted. Were they saying they had one of those things alive on the ship?

"Captain! That will be enough of that. You are here at Commander Sun's personal recommendation, I suggest you shut the frak up and listen, before you make any more thoughtless comments!" Helena Cain suddenly barked, her eyes furious as she spun around and glared at Susan.

Helena Cain's gaze turned on the Medusa's Commander.

"Commander, this child is here on your say so. I seriously question your judgment in trusting such a sensitive assignment to an bloody 'Nugget'!" Helena nearly screamed.

"Admiral!" Commander Sun shouted cutting the older woman off. Helena Cain reared back in surprise, Rear Admirals just didn't get shouted at in their own offices. She turned stunned eyes on the _Medusa_ Commander.

"Captain Usen is the best choice for this mission. We both agreed to that, if you had let me explain the special circumstances Captain Usen would already have understood what this is all about. It has nothing to do with her age, if you came across this mess cold, you'd be first inline ordering the prisoner spaced!" Aeryn Sun stated.

The two Battlestar CO's stared at each other for a long minute, and then to the watching Captains amazement, it was the Rear Admiral who sighed and looked away.

"Fine! Explain then. But if I hear one more comment like that I'll get someone else, Moyan cleared or not, and your Captain Usen can spend the next month cleaning toilets." Helena Cain said her voice suddenly tired and her face lined beyond her years. She turned her chair around again Leaving the conversation in Aeryn's control.

"Captain!" Aeryn spoke sharply to attract Susan Usen's attention. Her pilot was still staring in shock, at the suddenly oblivious Rear Admiral Cain.

"Sir!" Captain Usen shook her head slightly and focused on Commander Sun.

"Captain there is a strong possibility, that Captain Knight may be what we are calling a deep cover infiltrator. We're not clear on all the facts yet, but what that means is that the woman Gina Knight had no idea that she was a Cylon plant." Commander Aeryn said, starting the briefing again.

"How could It not have known." Susan saw the Admiral flinch this time and abruptly stopped speaking.

Aeryn continued on as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"These deep cover infiltrator's are different. The Cylons you fought on the _Botanical Explorer_ with Colonel Torins Marines, were Cylon A.I.s in basically, cloned human bodies with a few tricks. I know you were there for the interrogations afterwards, what were they like?" Aeryn asked.

Susan thought about it. Remembering the hours after being evacuated from Picon, getting caught up with the crews of the Troop ships the wild chase and attack led by Colonel Torins and her Marines.

She'd spent most of the assault in a cannon turret on her Troop Transport trying to to cover the Marines, as they'd fought their way through the gardens and animal enclosures, aboard the _Botanical Explorer_. Then the battle had been over and the shock and outrage at finding what looked like people, fighting alongside and even directing the Cylon's in battle, came back to her. Then when the 'Things' had started talking.

"They where confident that's what struck us all, so damm sure of themselves. It didn't mater a frak that they were down on their knees, and we were holding guns to their heads. They were Cylon's, we were humans. They had their God on their side, we should just give up and let them kill us. Everything else was just meaningless."

"Right, arrogant as all frell and holding all us lesser creatures in contempt. Not the best material to make spies and saboteurs." Although Aeryn doubted this line of reasoning, she'd met a few Peacekeeper Disrupters who would have fit that description nicely, and they'd done their jobs as spies and saboteurs just fine.

"But a deep cover infiltrator is the same cloned body, but the Cylon AI is asleep. What walks around and talks to the people, its trying to infiltrate. According to what we can tell, that isn't a fanatical Cylon but something else. Something else that as far as we know believes, no not believes, that leaves the possibility of disbelief. Knows that he or she is a perfectly normal Colonial human, loyal to the same things as all the rest of you."

Susan slumped back in her chair, trying to get her head round the idea.

"And that's what Captain Knight is?" She asked a bit dazed.

"We think so, but there's the possibility that she's a Cylon playing some game. That's why we need to be sure, and that's where you and this mission comes in." Aeryn told her.

"How? How can we tell. I thought the Ragnar Effect grenades." Susan began.

"The R.E. grenades support what we think is happening. If there's a Cylon AI active in the human body it gets fried, taking the body with it. Like you saw on the Botanical Explorer, if there's one in there and its hiding or asleep, it still gets fried. But the human body just feels a jolt like a mild electrical shock." Aeryn took a deep breath, this must have been the tenth time she'd been through this explanation.

Rear Admiral Cain, Colonel Jody Yates, her own XO Major Dies, the Doctors and Masters at Arms from both the _Medusa _and the _Pegasus_, anybody who needed to know that they had a possible enemy agent on board.

"So Captain Knight just got a mild jolt from one of the grenades?" Susan asked finally, getting some idea what was happening.

"No." Admiral Cain spoke suddenly, having calmed down enough to rejoin the conversation.

"When we tested Gina." Helena cut herself off and with a tired frown, started again. "When we tested 'Midnight', it hit her hard. She went into convolutions for a second. And she developed massive bruises all over her upper arms, forearms, thighs, lower calf and one at the top of her spine. All places, I'm told where Cylon's keep organic computers."

"But she survived." Aeryn picked up the Admirals point when the woman seemed to fade again. "And she reported that until that moment, she'd thought she was going mad. Hearing voices, seeing things, having strange dreams. When she was hit with the Ragnar Effect she told us, she felt 'IT' die." Aeryn finished.

Susan's mind raced it, sounded at least vaguely plausible. But wouldn't you expect a Cylon agent to come up with something like that, if it had just been found out.

"So how can we be sure?" Captain Usen asked.

"We can't. Not with the technology we have here, even upgraded with Moyan science. Colonial tech is still to primitive." Aeryn answered smiling faintly.

Susan blinked at her CO.

"Then how?" Susan asked slowly, wondering. Then she remembered whom she was talking to. The Viper pilot's eye slid across Commander Aeryn Sun's uniform, until it rested on her unit patch. A stylized set of lines angled up then down twice, in what she was told was a Thirteenth Tribe letter, forming the M sound. In front of it swooped a smooth red shape, somehow inspiring feelings of both graceful speed and power. Even though Susan, had never worked up the nerve to ask her mentor what it was.

Seeing where her Viper pilot was looking.Aeryn nodded.

"If we can get Captain Knight to the Cauldron System, we have the tech there to work out what's going on."

"You will escort Captain Knight to the Moyan ship _Guard_ in the Cauldron System and deliver these orders to 'Senior' Captain Croft of that ship." Rear Admiral Cain interjected suddenly all business. Pulling an envelope from under Susan's file.

Susan Usen looked from one officer to the other. She had heard rumors about the Cauldron System since the Holocaust. The mysterious place where not only the two Commanders and the Xarai had come from, but also where they'd captured the _Hades_. It was the center of endless speculation among the crew of the _Medusa_ and other ships of the _Hades_ Fleet, to get a chance to go there and find the answers.

"Yes, uh. I'm mean, Yes Ma'am!"

_Council Building, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

"Will you re-assign your people like he wants?" Laura Roslin asked. The troop deployment inside the CDF and CMC was a purely internal mater. Not something the President of the Twelve Colonies would be involved in.

"Yes, if Commander Crichton hadn't asked, I would have suggested something along the same lines. His crews are too green or rusty. One thing the 'Bucket' has going for her, is the number and quality of her crew." Bill told her. "Its going to be a mess for a while promotions, re-assignments shuffling damm near whole ship crews around, but its got to be done."

_Stranight Base Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Sharon trotted quickly down the rows of shelves. As she moved, she dumped handfulls of the small boxes into the backpack she carried. Each box contained measured doses, of ready to inject Anti-Radiation medicines. The awkward bulk of the assault rifle slung across her back, threw her off balance again, and Sharon cursed silently under her breath. 'Helo' had insisted she take one, when they had raided the small armory in this warehouses guardroom.

Karl had helped himself to an assault rifle as well, and was managing its length and weight easily. Sharon may have been stronger than human norm, but the slim 175 centimeter tall woman couldn't compete in carry around long heavy stuff. Not with a 191 centimeter tall man with shoulders like a weightlifters. 'Helos' problem was the extra handgun he'd strapped around his waist. They weren't likely to find anymore laying around, so he'd grabbed a spare. Now all he had to do was remember it was there, so he'd stop catching it on things all the time.

'Helo' was working from the other end of the room, leaving the anti-radiation meds for Sharon to collect. He was concentrating on any of the other hardy, long life medication that the CDF kept around.

So far he'd only found a few cartons of antibiotics and some self-adhering bandages. The vault the two fugitives were raiding was a medium security storeroom, used for anything medical related the CDF thought might be worth stealing. But Stranight base wasn't a huge facility and its supplies were limited.

'Helo' turned into the next row scanning the shelves. Mostly specific medicines that the CDF bought and issued to whichever of its soldiers needed them. Karl reached past a neat arrangement of small insulin bottles, and pulled out four sealed adrenaline hypodermics. He was just emptying a shelf of its water purification tablets when Sharon called out.

"Helo do you hear that?" Sharon asked softly. Halting her looting duties and cocking her head, as she strained to recapture the sound that had caught her attention.

Karl stood still and concentrated, he couldn't hear anything except his own heart beat and breathing. The storeroom was called a vault because it was underground and built of solid concrete, it made for good sound insulation. But something spooking Sharon was good enough for 'Helo' it was time to leave.

"Come on! We've got enough stuff to last awhile, lets get out of here." With one sweep of his arm, 'Helo' scooped an entire shelf's worth of different medicines into his backpack, and zipped it closed.

Karl and Sharon raced to the rooms steel doorway and Karl gently eased the door open and risked a quick glance into the hallway outside.

"Clear!" The CDF lieutenant hissed. Sharon slipped out in front of him, rifle at the ready.

The two jogged down the corridor, back the way they'd come, past other locked armored door leading to the bases other secure storerooms. At the end of the bare concrete hall was the short stairway leading up to the ground floor of the warehouse.

'Helos' long legs outdistanced Sharon, so he made it to the doorway into the stairwell a second before her. Grasping the door handle he carefully started to pull it open.

_Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

What was needed was new templates, Naxos decided. The designs already used were too restricted and defined by mighty Hephaestus's will and word.

Naxos had made what small changes It could. But they had been external to the main problems, small things dealing with navigation and lifespan.

The threat of hostile species could not be addressed so easily. But if new designs and templates could be acquired.

Yes.

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A/N

1)Cross-cultural contamination goes both ways.

2)Apparently the guns the Colonial's where supposed to be using are .45 AP Blasters, 12 shot revolvers that Ron Moore said in his commentary are an exact replica of Decker's sidearm used in the movie Blade Runner. These were used in the mini-series and early season one. They could at least damage a Centurion and with a little luck and skill make kill shots on the armored robots.

But this cost too much (special effects & props) so now the Colonial's all use 9mm automatics with under the barrel add-ons that are supposed to be grenade launchers,

In Battlestar Farscape I'll be sticking to the .45 Blasters, except that Admiral Cain already used an automatic to kill her XO so now they have automatics for ship duty and the Blasters for in the field.


	17. Chapter 17

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia Battlestar Wiki and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Now with 100 more Beta testing thanks to IbrahimV

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Chapter 17

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

The back entrance to the underground levels of Stranight base rustled with fugitive noises. In the fire escape stairway leading back up to the warehouse number three, the tap of boot heels on concrete and an occasional scrape of a mishandled backpack catching on the rough unfinished looking walls could be heard.

Karl and Sharon climbed the stairs as quickly as they dared. Moving carefully, trying not to cause any unneeded noise. Their hard-soled uniform boots had a bad habit of clattering on the concrete steps no matter how gently they put their feet down.

The stairwell was a big grey box. A box that reverberated every noise, no matter how tiny, back at the two fugitives and up to the levels above.

The raiding team of the _Galactica_ pilot and the Bioform Cylon traitor already had had the fun experience of creeping down those same steps once today, on their way in. Expecting, at every corner, to come face to face with a Centurion, every second, waiting, for the clank of metal-clawed feet behind them.

Now, as the two fugitives made their cautious way back upstairs, they knew that there were Cylons up there. It was just the matter of where the frakking things were hiding.

Sharon moved alongside Karl, keeping pace, the stairs were easily wide enough for the two of them to move side-by-side. As they crept forward, both held their new assault rifles at the ready.

Neither Sharon nor Helo were completely comfortable with the big guns yet. CDF pilots were required to show a certain level of familiarity with Marine weapons, tested once every two years. But they weren't checked out and scored for a useful level of skill. Unlike the field issue Blaster pistols or the nine-millimeter automatics issued for ship duties, with those weapon pilots had to prove they knew what they were doing. With the heavier guns that pilot's weren't expected to use, they just had to prove you knew how the bullets were loaded, which end they came out if you pulled the trigger and where the safety was.

Both Sharon and Karl had felt the extra stopping power and the large magazines were of more use in hand, than they would be slung over their backs.

Besides, it was either, hold them in their hands, even if they were more comfortable with their pistols, or have the awkward things flopping about, swinging from their shoulder straps every step they took.

The two pilots turned the last corner and moved up to flank the door that led out onto the warehouse ground floor. The plain metal reinforced door was painted a bright cheerful red with a large "Emergency Exit Alarm Will Sound" sign in white at eye level. It was secured from the stairway side by a quick release push bar running horizontal, at about waist height.

The door alarm had been disabled on their way into the base. Both pilots where trained Electronic Countermeasure Officers. Tracking down which wire to cut so no alarm sounded when a door opened, or which to short circuit so the system didn't realize that it had been compromised had been child's play for the two.

Helo gently grabbed the horizontal push bar. Looking at Sharon, knowing her ears were much sharper than his were.

"I could hear some kind of commotion going on when we were downstairs but whatever it was, it stopped now. I heard a Centurion running just a minute ago but it sounded a long way off and now nothing." Sharon reported, speaking quietly.

Helo cursed silently but it wasn't like they could stay here. Their only other plan to get out had involved going up another level and using a rope to climb out of a window. But dawn had caught up with them and the idea of swinging on a rope, hanging out a window in plain view of any passing Cylon didn't have much appeal. They could try holing up for the day and making a break for it tonight but every second they stayed increased the risk of being discovered and trapped with no way out.

Karl pushed down the release bar and eased the door open a centimeter. A quick glance showed the coast to be clear. The door was set in an out of the way area of the warehouse and all he could see were crates and boxes and rows upon rows of shelves. There could be an army of Centurions standing within ten meters of the door and Helo wouldn't have spotted them unless they were jumping up and down, waving their arms about.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

Jane Six, she had chosen the name herself, sat in an office cubicle using a ridiculously limited Colonial computer to try and get some work done.

She needed to organize supplies for the new experimental Farm that the Gestalt had directed to be setup, here in the Delphi province. It was hoped that the province's high mountains would give some protection to the test subjects, shielding them from the lingering radiation. The mortality rate was getting excessive at the prototype Farm in the Caprican Capital Province, there were only a limited number of test subjects that they could use. Humans were an endangered species after all and there were still no viable results.

Stranight Base, being closest the Cylon Outpost to the Delphi mountain ranges, had been chosen as a staging area. Once things were organized, building materials and supplies would be funneled through Stranight and up into the mountains to the selected building site.

It was a simple job being made difficult because Jane was forced to work with the useless Colonial technology. But Cylon designed systems were still scarce and other outposts and bases were much higher on the list to receive new equipment. Certainly more important than an out of the way corner of an insignificant province like Delphi.

"Hey!" A familiar woman's voice called.

Jane turned as someone clattered down the hall towards her cubicle. She was alone in this little work area. She doubted that anyone else used the other computers in Stranight Base's small secretarial pool since the Liberation. So there was no mistaking who the newcomer was waving to cheerfully as she galloped down the hall towards Jane Six's little alcove. The blonde Cylon frowned, at this rate she'd never get this finished.

With a resigned sigh, she plastered a gracious smile on her face as she studied the latest pest that was keeping her from her work.

One of her sisters, a younger, more recently activated, tall, blonde Cylon, one who still clung to their Model's Look. Dressing as if she were attending a gala event. Not stuck manning a little base on the edge of nowhere.

Jane herself, had long ago, put away her red evening dress and high heels, preferring a set of more comfortable trousers, sneakers and a chic grey blouse. Designer labels of course, from one of the best boutiques in Caprica City.

She watched the other Six hurry down the hallway, mincing on her high heels. It must be important, Jane thought to herself, if she's trying to run on those things.

The Bioform Cylon brightened slightly as she recognized one of her frequent companions. One of her sisters that she got along reasonably well with, a friend really. Standing up, she flowed confidently from her swivel chair and with long smooth strides, moved to intercept the other Cylon's hurried course.

"What's up?" She asked, falling into step with her Model sister, easily matching pace with the other woman.

"The general intruder alert has gone off!" The blonde answered. Jane frowned at that. If the alarms had gone off, she, as the most senior Six, should have been notified. Surreptitiously, she checked to see if the radio clipped to her belt was still on and charged. Seeing the full battery light blinking cheerfully back at her, Jane frowned even harder. God, how she hated the power plays and backstabbing that was becoming the norm in Cylon society.

At least when she was the stabbee rather than the stabber.

"The others are securing the Headquarters. Four asked me to head up to the lookout tower and see if I can spot the problem. The sensors don't seem to be picking anything up." The other Model Six told her as she made a sharp turn into the building's lobby. Leading Jane through the open sliding doors and into the lift waiting there.

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Sharon slipped out and crouched behind a pile of large, heavy looking crates. Raising her rifle, she tried to look in every direction at once, as she covered Helo, the other Pilot worked quickly undoing the damage they'd done to the door's alarm.

The idea was, to get in and out without the Cylons ever knowing they'd been on the Base. The plan had gotten a huge boost when it looked like they'd been the first to enter the vault since before the Holocaust.

Helo deftly reconnected wires and removed the extra they'd used to fool the system into thinking it was still working. Then duck-walked over to the Cylon woman, joining her behind her crate.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

The Stranight base Headquarters / Administration building was made of reinforced poured concrete slabs like the entire base's architecture. Designed to survive long after civilian construction would have fallen to rubble, but there the similarities ended. With the Headquarters building, more effort had been spent trying to make it look friendly and elegant, more like a civilian office complex and less like the utilitarian structures used for the rest of the Base. A terrace arrangement had been used in making balconies to showcase the large windows that were cut into the concrete walls. The mellow off-white, it was painted, was considered people friendly, shrubs and flowers had been planted here and there in an effort to soften all the hard right-angled corners. It wouldn't win any awards but it didn't scream military at first glance either.

The warehouses, equipment sheds, vehicle hangars, the mess hall and barracks had been left raw. Sprayed with sealant to protect them from the weather but apart from names and numbers to help people navigate the base, they remained big and ugly-slapped-together looking buildings. Quick to build, easy to maintain, tough, no nonsense construction designed to do their job and nothing else.

The HQ building could say the same, really, the difference being that part of its job was to entertain visiting officers and civilians. A wide paved path led up to an open, airy, entrance hall. It was a building designed for crisp dress uniforms and briefcases, not soldiers lugging gear around in their undershirts.

The only thing that marred the building's mimicry of a civilian office building was a small tower that rose an extra eight meters above the roof. A small observation room built around an elevator topped the tower. Anyone standing inside had a 180-degree plus view of the base and its surroundings.

"Anything?" Jane demanded of her sister Model Six. The two Bioform Cylons stood on the observation deck a few steps from the elevator. The room was rounded about 10 meters across with the elevator in the middle, set into a neat marble-sheathed pillar. The two clean, metal, automatic doors to the elevator had been polished until they shone.

Around the edge, the wall rose ninety centimeters from the carpeted floor then the rest of the space to the ceiling was filled with one long window. It was more a viewing stand from where the Base Commander could survey his domain than a simple lookout tower. Directly behind the lift, making a break in the long window was a door marked "In Case of Fire, do not use Elevators" opening out onto a ladder leading down to the main building's roof.

The other Six had brought a set of binoculars with her, leaving Jane reliant on her Sister to find out what was happening in the maze that was Stranight Base's buildings.

"Nothing! Where are the frakking Centurions?" The other blonde Cylon answered, her eyes glued to her binoculars as she scanned the base.

"They'll be scrambling now. It takes a few seconds for them to come online," Jane answered distractedly searching the small room. It was the place's whole purpose. They must have a spare set around here some… Ah! Jane snatched open a small box set by the door to reveal two sets of racked binoculars.

Thinking about it, even if it did take forty seconds for Centurions to go from standby to alert mode, they'd taken longer than that riding the blasted elevator. It would be just like the Model Four who was the head coordinator of Stranight Base to decide to leave the robotic soldiers in stasis and run his bioform subordinates ragged, just to save himself a little effort.

"They should be out by now! Hasn't that blasted Four issued the activation call yet?" Jane Six complained as she grabbed a spare set of binoculars and joined her sister.

"There they go now! Over by the barracks." Her companion reported.

Jane swung her gaze around and focused on the base's small barracks buildings. The Cylons had converted the two-story, blocky building into a storage and charging facility for a short centuria (6) of forty Centurions. Focusing the old analog binoculars, she watched as the line of marching silver forms poured out of the building, quickly breaking up into smaller groups and spreading, each heading for its own pre-programmed search area.

Jane flipped channels on her radio, listening to the combat reports flying between Centurions as they methodically began their sweep of the base.

Another single General Intruder Alert was announced. The base's security system could not pin it down to a single location just like the original alert. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

To Jane, that spoke of more planning and skill than any random survivor would be able to muster but that was how the Model Four in command of Stranight Base was treating it.

Still there wasn't a lot more that the small Cylon garrison could do. They could call back the patrols they'd sent into Delphi City if they needed a dozen more Centurions or call for reinforcements from the Delphi Spaceport. The Spaceport served as the Occupation Legion's Provincial Headquarters and housed a large garrison of Centurions, backed up by a wing of Heavy Raiders.

On the information they had now, either course would be a wild overreaction but Jane Six was getting a really bad feeling. She was starting to think that tagging along with her friend had been a bad idea. Something was up and this tower was much too exposed for her liking.

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

"Anything?" Karl whispered. He was crouched down beside Sharon, rifle held at the ready. As far as he could tell, the warehouse was exactly the way they'd left it before they headed underground to the medium security vaults.

They were in warehouse Number Three, a large rectangular building 300 meters long and 100 wide. Helo could see a few offices and small lunchrooms down the far end of the building in the northwest corner opposite the northeast corner where Karl and Sharon had just slipped out onto the main floor.

"I don't know. There's something going on. There are the sounds of movement all over the place, outside the warehouse, over there." Sharon gestured with her rifle's barrel, indicating the warehouse's north wall.

"Right, let's go that way then." Karl nodded south and set off, leading the way.

After only making a dozen steps, weaving between piled freight containers, they had to turn, heading west along one of the aisles. Helo glanced at one of the cartons lining the shelves they were walking between, twisted his nose in a grimace, and started walking faster. Sharon cast him a worried frown and involuntary Karl's eyes lingered on one of the labels they were passing. Sharon followed his look and suddenly grinned, thousands upon thousands of CDF regulation condoms, enough to keep the crew of a Battlestar or Anchorage safe for a year.

"Men!" Sharon muttered under her breath. The two fugitives suddenly found themselves grinning at each other and a lot of the tension in the air seemed to fade.

The warehouse was cool and dark, the only light was from what little filtered through the high-set windows. The main shop floor, a single large room filled with rows of stacked freight or shelves full of the warehouse's smaller stock.

Each roller door had a large cleared area in front of it. A broad path led straight from each door across the floor creating a miniature highway. Designed for forklifts and floor trucks to move whatever came through to where it needed to be, stored or shipped on.

Sharon and Helo headed out across the short side of the warehouse, north to south. It wasn't what the place had been designed for and the two pilots soon found out. Everything was laid out for ease of access from the North wall loading docks and, unless they wanted to back track and start from there, they had to go round stacks of shipping containers and move up and down rows of shelving to make any progress.

No doubt, it was all perfectly logical and simple but trying to move along the east wall heading for the southeast corner quickly became more like running an obstacle course than moving stealthily through an abandoned warehouse.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

"There!" The Model Six cried, pointing urgently to show her companion.

Jane was already speaking rapidly into her radio, giving directions to the Centurion troops searching below.

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

"Damn!" Sharon ducked in reflex, crouching and bringing her rifle up as the distant click of metal on metal caught her attention. Helo stopped by her side, mirroring her moves.

Karl and Sharon had only made it thirty meters from the stairway door.

"What is it?" Karl hissed. Sharon waved urgently for him to be quiet as she strained to listen.

Sharon's eyes widened as she bolted up.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here!" Sharon shouted and started sprinting. Making a mad dash around a row of shelves full of what looked like boxes of Raptor A/C units, Helo not a step behind her.

The two made a break across open ground. Giving up the cover offered by the stacked crates and boxes for the speed of the neat pathways left for forklifts crisscrossing the center of the warehouse.

With a crash and rattle of chains on the opposite side of the building, one of the large cargo roller doors slammed up. Blinding sunlight streaked into the gloomy warehouse. The sudden brightness was glaring.

For a second, Karl and Sharon were caught flatfooted, startled into immobility by the sudden burst of bright dawn sunlight.

Three Centurions regarded the two pilots with scanning red eyes. The silver robots moved in silent mechanical unison, lifting their armored arms, clawed hands coming apart and reforming to show gun barrels.

Helo saw a flicker of movement in the dazzling light, a shadow moving and threw himself at Sharon, knocking both of them to the ground, barely dodging the blizzard of metal that slashed at the air where they'd been standing.

Karl rolled off of Sharon and swung his rifle around, swinging it to cover the distant, suddenly open, loading dock door.

Helo squinted against the bright light. Three Centurion shaped silhouettes stood out, plainly backlit by the rising sun. He lined up his rifle's sights with the black figures and pulled back on the trigger.

Sharon fired first.

Despite having just been tackled by someone twice her weight and slammed to the ground with that same weight riding her down, the Bioform Cylon woman reacted with incredible speed. The deep "BRAK" of her three-round burst, blasted out into the warehouse, still ringing with the thunder of the Centurions' attack.

Helo added his own armor-piercing barrage to Sharon's. The opposite side of the warehouse was at least sixty meters away, a good range for Marines but a bit of an ask for Pilots. The Centurions moved through the doorway, still firing. The warehouse echoed with the loud continual cracks of gunfire.

Karl watched over his rifle's sights as one of the figures stumbled back a step and concentrated his next shots at that one. The robots were loping forward, now only firing a few shots but rapidly closing the distance.

"I'm out!" Sharon shouted and grabbed a spare magazine from her backpack.

Karl cursed, the three round bursts he was firing seemed weak now, compared to the charging robots. The Raptor pilot flipped the fire selector to full automatic and let rip, spraying the silver enemy with armor-piercing rounds. Trying to hold them back long enough for Sharon to reload.

It wasn't enough.

Before he could fire again, he was desperately rolling and scrambling sidewise. Trying to escape the suddenly withering concrete floor. Cylon metal slugs tore the ground around the pilot and it exploded in a wave of dust and concrete shrapnel.

"This way." Sharon screamed.

Karl managed to get his feet set to the ground; and levered himself up and running, following Sharon's voice. Helo caught a glimpse of a pair of regulation CDF boots disappearing between two boxes on the shelves to his left.

Helo cursed and emptied his clip at the Centurions before diving after Sharon's retreating legs. Karl slammed in after her, wiggling fanatically as his greater bulk caused his backpack to get stuck. The Centurions fire ramped up a notch as they saw their pray escaping.

Sparks flew as the metal boxes and shelves were shredded. Cylon slugs whizzed around Karl's legs as he tried to get some leverage to push himself through. Sharon reared up in front of him, grabbed a double handful of his jacket and wrenched backwards as hard as she could. Karl came free and tumbled down, crashing on top of the sprawled Cylon woman.

Helo, for the second time in seconds, found himself untangling arms and legs from around Sharon as he tried to get up.

The Cylon gunfire slackened a bit now that the two fugitives were under cover but the penetrator rounds fired by the Centurions still smashed into the mangled shelves every second. With a screech, one of the supports gave way and the abused shelf listed back towards Helo and Sharon.

Sharon eeled out from under her fellow pilot and shoved her rifle through a handy gap. Lining up one-handed at the stalking advance of the Centurions, the bioform Cylon woman copied her partner's earlier gambit, flipped her rifle's fire select to full-auto and grabbed onto the trigger tight.

The Marine Assault rifle roared, burning through its hundred-round magazine at 500 Rounds per Minute. The Model Eight Cylon held on grimly and threw her whole weight onto her suddenly jerking and bucking rifle. Sharon hosed her armor-piercing shots over the three advancing Centurions for a good 8 seconds before it jammed open. Empty.

The Centurions staggered back under the onslaught. One twisted around and crashed to the ground, its chest and head, a shredded smoking ruin.

Sharon dragged her rifle back and pulled out the empty magazine, dropping it, she began rummaging desperately through her pockets for a reload.

"Karl, come on! There are only two of them left." Sharon said suddenly realizing she'd been the only one firing. Finding a spare magazine, she pulled it and started fitting it into her rifle's feed.

Something bumped into her forehead. Looking up from her rifle, she found herself staring down the barrel of its brother or at least a very close cousin.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

"The Centurions have them pinned down! They're in CDF uniforms." Jane reported. Listening to the chatter on her radio.

"I can't see anything." The other Six complained, lowering her binoculars in disgust. Turning to look at Jane Six standing beside her, she raised a querying eyebrow. "Maybe we should go down and help capture them?" She asked her older sister.

Jane ignored her, a suspicion suddenly burning brightly in her mind and a cold icy feeling settling into her stomach.

"They're all heading for Warehouse Three. They're going the wrong way!" Jane exclaimed, still watching through her binoculars. The Centurions that had been slowly spreading throughout the base had reversed course and where now converging on one of the base's larger warehouses.

Shocked, the other Six turned back to the window, bring up her own spyglasses.

"Idiots! We told them they're at the south."

SMASH!

The long window facing out onto Stranight Base shattered! Showering Jane with glass and cutting off her Sister in mid-sentence.

_Pilot's Den, Leviathan Rovhu, Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

"Pilot, are they on their way yet?" D'Argo demanded as he barreled through the Den's armored hatch.

Pilot looked up from the complex layered control panel. His four clawed arms not pausing at his work in directing and regulating Rovhu's slowly reawakening systems.

"Greetings Ka D'Argo. Rovhu and I are pleased to see you. I see you are in your normal pleasant mood." Pilot answered, his melodious voice holding a definite hint of annoyance.

D'Argo grimaced, if nothing else reminded him that he wasn't on Moya anymore, this Pilot's frelling touchiness did.

"Sorry Pilot, how are you and Rovhu doing?" The Luxan asked quickly.

"Both Rovhu and I are well, Ka D'Argo. The Builders' Substance has ebbed another thirty metra. Level Seventeen is starting to drain. Rovhu is also very pleased that his natural hue is starting to return." Pilot informed the Luxan, his voice returning to his normal calm.

Pilot waited a microt then finished as if he'd never berated the Luxan. "You will be pleased to know, Private Seran and Sharon Valerii have just left the medical bay and will be here shortly. Chiana and Clara Tores are still in Chiana's chambers but report that they will be here in microts and to advise you not to leave without them."

D'Argo looked around the Den. The cathedral like room, full of shadowed recesses and arched vaulted chambers that climbed up and out of sight. A long, smooth bridge leading from the main entrance hatch across the pit that went all the way down to the lower holds and Rovhu's inner hull. The red was leaching slowly out of the Biomechanoid's walls and deck and even D'Argo's sharp eyes couldn't see a hint of the blue Goo down there. Although, it was hundreds of metra deep, far enough so it disappeared into darkness and out of sight.

"Yes it's... Nice." D'Argo said uncertainly. "Very brownie gold."

"Rovhu feels that the return to his natural coloring is an excellent sign of the Builders' Substance finishing its work and releasing him. He is most anxious to fly among the stars, now free of a control collar. I too, look forward to such a time. It has been many cycles (2)." Pilot informed him.

D'Argo gritted his teeth before he could say something he just knew would sound stupid or insulting or probably both. The Leviathan's feelings mirrored his own too closely, almost exactly. D'Argo needed to get out of here and do something!

"Any updates on the Transport Pods?" D'Argo asked, reminded that he was still stuck on a grounded ship.

"Rovhu has laid down the foundation of four Pods. With the full complement of DRD's now available, construction should be complete within five solar days." Pilot answered after a brief flurry of gentle but precise claw strokes, manipulating his array of controls.

D'Argo stared at Pilot for another microt before turning away with a muttered word that Pilot didn't hear and the giant symbiote decided not to bother accessing the Den's sensors and recorders to hear more clearly. The Luxan started pacing the length of Pilot's control platform stomping angrily.

Pilot watched D'Argo make two circuits then checked the other passengers' progress. With a sigh, he realized that the closest group, Private Seran and Sharon Valerii, wouldn't arrive at the Den for another 360 Microts. He watched the Luxan go past again and thought about putting up with this for another eight minutes, as the Colonials measured time.

Pilot closed his eyes briefly and concentrated on his link to Rovhu. A feeling of vast amusement surrounded the Pilot. Smiling slightly (only another of Pilot's species would recognize the faint expression), Pilot regarded the Luxan.

"You seem aggravated Ka D'Argo. Is there anything Rovhu or I can do?" Pilot asked finally.

"I don't like this Pilot!" The Luxan burst out. Turning to face Rovhu's Pilot "I realize John and Aeryn were on their own! I understand they had to act as they saw fit. They could hardly have talked to me about it, but all these plans!" With a snort, D'Argo took up his course again, stomping a quick route in front of Pilot's console. "And the frelling Humans!"

"Ah." Pilot started to answer but D'Argo didn't give him a chance. Talking straight over him.

"Humans, Pilot! Humans with, human built ships. I've been in Crichton's shuttle pod. That thing is a flying death trap and the technology is hardly worthy of the name! Now we're going in one not just built to reach orbit but a ship that supposed to be intersystem capable. Not Hetch Drive. NO! That would be far too simple for humans. They have to use some kind of subspace teleportation, one that no one has ever even heard of before!" D'Argo's was mostly talking to himself now, still pacing, the Luxan was picking up speed.

"And why does Crichton want us to use one of his frelling human built ships? Does he want us to go meet with him so he can explain how he got us into this frelled up situation? NO, he wants us to go visit one of his other human built ships, one they haven't even finished building yet and pick up a load of fahrbot droids, which by the way, are known killers!" D'Argo spun to face Pilot at the last word and stood not quite glaring at the giant crustacean, breathing hard.

Pilot watched in fascination as the tenkas, the tentacles flowing around from the back of Ka D'Argo's head and down from his chin, actually vibrated with the Luxan warrior's pent up frustration.

Pilot looked at the D'Argo for a long moment. The Luxan's frustration was easily understandable but there was little he or Rovhu could do until they were free of the Cauldron.

"I share your feelings of helplessness and frustration Ka D'Argo but as of yet, there is little we can do to change our situation." Pilot spoke carefully, he did not really know Ka D'Argo well and Luxans have a well-deserved reputation for violence. He had absolutely no desire to witness a fabled Hyper Rage (3) at very close quarters. "I can assure you that Rovhu and I examined Commanders Crichton and Sun's reasoning very closely when we decided to wait until Rovhu was capable of traveling himself before recommending that you wait to join your fellow Moyans on the Command Basestar _Hades_."

"I've heard the reasons Pilot and it comes down to the simple well-known truth humans are fahrbot." D'Argo almost spat with his disgust but he was calming down now. Just telling his problems to someone helped and the promise of soon leaving the Leviathan, even if it was in only a solar day or so, cheered him immensely.

"I hardly think a group of isolated Luxans would react any differently Ka D'Argo. The Commanders believe and Rovhu and I agree that you and Chiana's welcome among the Colonials would be more convivial if you arrived onboard a 1453 Metra (4) long Leviathan than if you arrived onboard one of their own ships." Pilot said as forcefully as he dared.

D'Argo just nodded. He'd already heard this before. It still didn't mean he had to like it. He still remembered the Ancient's simulation of John's Erp (8) and Rigel's simulated death there. Crichton had believed it. That the humans of his world would do it, he'd hoped they wouldn't but in the end, hadn't been surprised. If a few more Solar Days would spare Chiana or himself that fate then it was well worth it.

The hatch moved, pivoting on its offset turn points and the voices of two young Sebacean sounding women could be heard. That they were speaking the Colonial tongue didn't rule out any of his shipmates. Chiana, truth be told, spoke the Colonial language more fluently than D'Argo did.

D'Argo turned and saw the two newcomers, Seran the Sebacean Commando and Sharon Valerii the human/Cylon.

As the two women walked across the bridge to join him on Pilot's control platform, D'Argo stood to the side. Still irritated but unwilling to let virtual strangers like Private Seran and Sharon Valerii see it.

D'Argo would have preferred to have these meetings on the bridge or the food hall. The Pilot's den had always struck him as a very private place where the Pilot and Leviathan really lived. It had to be like having every meeting inside his own private quarters. Something, D'Argo wouldn't have stood for a microt. It didn't seem to bother Pilot so the Luxan hadn't said anything yet but that was another odd thing about these humans. From what he could tell, they actually thought they were being considerate of Pilot's feelings by barging into his living space at every opportunity. Finding it, somehow, inconsiderate to talk to him over the holodisplays.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

Jane Six cautiously raised her head from where she had been trying to burrow into the lookout room's carpeted floor, letting shards of glass fall from her hair.

The Model Six spent a long second, looking at her Model Sister. The younger clone was stretched out ungracefully where she'd flopped when the window had shattered. She lay across the floor less than a meter from Jane's eyes, her arms and legs extended, making a mangled X.

A long smear of blood and gore led across the small room, up the side of the elevator door, ending in a torso sized splash of dripping red, circled around a single hole, the size of a cubit.

The bullet had shattered the tough glass, passed through its target and disappeared into the lifts steel doors.

Jane didn't really notice it except out of the corner of her eye. Her attention was riveted to her Model Sister's sprawled form, and the drastic problem she saw there.

Her Model Sister. Jane Six's exact copy was missing something. Something important.

She was missing her head.

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

"Move, Move, Move!"

Sharon and Karl jogged along, moving at a fast pace, surrounded by men and women wearing helmets and flak jackets. They were heading towards the west end of the base, keeping to the alleyways and lanes between the base's buildings. The group around them, two women and three men, kept pace with them, easily running beside the two fugitives. They'd been stripped of their weapons and supplies.

Their new 'friends' were carrying it all.

Sharon and Karl could see the five people in this group but by the sound of it, they weren't alone. Gunfire raged around them coming from the other side of the base's main gate and headquarters area, which was also the direction they were heading. Gunfire punctuated every few seconds or minutes by explosions, shouts could be heard in the distance. A new haze of smoke was staring to cloud the bright morning sky.

Sue-Shaun, the midnight-skinned woman leading the team that had surprised them in the warehouse trailed a step behind the two pilots. She was talking to someone on a walky talky.

The tall woman nearly matching Karl Agathon's 191 centimeters was the only one not wearing a helmet, preferring a splotchy green and brown camouflaged scarf wrapped around her head. Sue-Shaun was also the only one who's weapon, a short stubby submachine gun, was pointing at Sharon and Helo, though mostly at Sharon. The other four in the group ranged out to the sides of their little formation. Their weapons, two carried submachine guns like their leader, one carried a brace of machine pistols while the last carried a massive sniper's rifle. Their guns generally pointed out, covering the rest of the base.

The five newcomers had run right over the top of the two Raptor pilots, barely giving them a second to think, no time to act. Sue-Shaun and the guy with the expensive looking sniper's rifle had cut down the last two standing Centurions. The two men wielding machineguns had shouldered the weapons and quickly and efficiently stripped Sharon and Helo of everything of interest while the third a young woman with a pair of machine pistols had covered them.

As soon as they were finished, they'd herded the two pilots out of the warehouse and set them running through the base with a few shouted directions to keep them going in the right way.

Nobody had answered any of Karl's increasingly angry questions.

"Stop!" Sue-Shaun hissed clipping her walky talky back to her belt.

"Tara! Check it out!" She ordered, nodding to Tara, her team's only other woman. Tara Zachrau was a slim girl, looking about 20 and was the only team member not weighed down by a large backpack from either their own, or gear that they'd taken from Karl and Sharon. She was the team's scout. All through the group's short run through the base, she had ranged forward. Checking buildings they needed to pass and setting up to covering lanes her team would have to expose themselves to cross. Sometimes the big guy with the sniper's rifle would go with her.

Tara nodded back, acknowledging Sue-Shaun's order and sprinted forward before flattening herself against a wall at the intersection they had come to, and cautiously poking her head out to look around the corner. Her two machine pistols held at the ready across her chest.

"We're good!" Tara called back. The rest, waiting a few meters behind her relaxed slightly and watched as the scout slipped around the building, disappearing from view.

"Go!" Sue-Shaun ordered, prodding her prisoners into motion.

The two Raptor pilots followed Tara Zachrau around the corner and stopped in surprise. They'd come to the base's main business area where the largest warehouse, Warehouse One, butted up against the base's main road.

The two fugitives hadn't seen this many humans in months!

There could have been anywhere between fifty and a hundred people working in Warehouse number One's gaping, loading docks. Through the open roller doors, Sharon could see people driving forklifts speeding about. Picking up boxes, bringing them out to the loading ramp where they were piled onto already packed vans and medium-trucks then heading back inside for more. Others formed human chains passing a never-ending supply of small boxes and gear ripped from larger cartons, along to be packed into military utility vehicles, farm pick-up trucks and small vans, even a few station wagons had been pressed into service.

People ran around shouting orders as they read from clipboards, pointing at things missed and arguing with each other. Delivery trucks in all shapes and sizes with the names of a dozen different companies painted on their sides waited in line for their turn to be loaded.

At the next loading dock a big semi-trailer truck pulling an 18-wheeler flatbed was having shipping containers muscled onboard by one of the warehouse's freight cranes.

"I didn't say look and gape, move!" Sue-Shaun shouted from right behind the pair, startling them into motion.

The five fighters herded the two pilots through the controlled chaos, dodging between the frantic activities until they reached an APC parked just outside the running lines of packers.

Sue-Shaun gestured with her submachine gun at the open door to the troop compartment.

"Now sit down, stay down and keep quite, or I will shoot you!" Sue-Shaun ordered. "We clear?"

Helo looked at Sharon, the bioform Cylon shrugged and moved over to sit on the APC's armored floor. Helo reluctantly followed.

Sue-Shaun studied her two guests for a second. The frakking skinjob was just sitting there quietly watching the loaders at work. Acting like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth but the big guy was staring right back at her, scowling fiercely. Sue snorted hefted her machinegun and racked the slide, chambering a round. Pointing the barrel right at the skinjobs nose, She learned forward until she could look the Cylon woman in the eyes.

"Listen. I, want, to shoot you. You get me? Whatever game you two are playing at, well, we'll listen to what you have to say and maybe do something about it. But you keep what I'm telling you now right at the front of whatever microchip you call a brain. I really, and i mean REALLY, want to shoot you. Hell, I bet everybody here would be more than happy to do it. What do you say guys? Any of you want to blow a hole through the frakking skinjob?" Her last sentence, a shouted question to the other four members of her team.

Sue-Shaun listened to the chorus of "Hell Yeah" and "Too right, I do Sue-Shaun." From her team As she stared down her gun's sights into the Cylon's eyes. She could see the skinjob was terrified but she's doing an OK job of holding it together.

The slight move Sue had been waiting for came, as the Skinjob's boy toy tensed for a lunge. Sue-Shaun smoothly swung her gun round to cover him.

"As for you handsome. You just keep it together and everything will be all right. You read me?" The black woman asked. Her voice cool and conversational.

Helo glared back at the woman, seething.

"Look, I'm a pilot in the CDF. What is wrong with you people?" Karl demanded.

"Shut It!" Sue gave the pilot a hard prod with her gun barrel, ending his rant. "That's not what I asked flyboy!" Sue-Shaun barked. "I said, "DO. YOU. READ. ME?"

Karl Agathon bit back an angry reply. He and Sharon were well and truly caught. He had been terrified when these people first surprised them, thinking that they would kill Sharon out of hand but that hadn't happened yet.

"We are clear." Helo conceded, settling back onto the APC's uncomfortable tailgate.

"Yes we're clear." Sharon echoed.

"Good. Now you two be good. My team and I are covering this loading op after saving your sorry arses so we'll be right here." Sue-Shaun told them. "Once we get everything loaded and we bug out, you'll ride with us in this rattle-trap. We've got maybe an hour until we can stuff you two in a cage at base and we start having conversations, so you'd better start thinking real hard come up with some damn good reasons why we should keep you alive."

_Life Station, Battlestar Pegasus, Matock Redline System._

Captain Susan Usen stood outside the hatch that led into what had been the _Pegasus's_ Life Station's main supply room. Now it was a cell for the Life Station's only prisoner. Rear Admiral Cain was inside with the Prisoner / Patient, getting her ready. 'Char' with two Marines was waiting around to escort Captain Gina 'Midnight' Knight down to the starboard flight deck where their Raptor was waiting.

Susan jerked her eyes away from where they'd strayed and cursed herself mentally. Every time she let herself be distracted, her traitorous eyes would drift down until they rested on the unit patch sealed to her flight jacket.

Or rather, until they rested on what wasn't there. Her _Medusa_ patch was gone. The fierce snake-headed warrior-woman grasping a sword and shield gone, in its place was the ridiculous looking, at least to Susan at the moment, stylized figure with wavy lines projecting from its back and sides, "Battlestar Pegasus BSG 62." The _Pegasus's_ coat-of-arms.

Captain Susan Usen wasn't a member of the _Medusa's_ crew anymore. She wasn't the CAG in charge of five squadrons of Vipers and two of Raptors, now she was in charge of a single Raptor, four Marines, three pilots and a Cylon human clone thing. When she got back from this mission, she'd been promised a Squadron on the _Pegasus,_ maybe.

It wasn't really a shock or it shouldn't have been. Susan had known as soon as they'd found the _Serenity _in the _Griffin_ refugee group. The rebuilt Firebird was stuffed full of pilots, all but the greenest Nuggets with more seniority and experience than an ex-cadet who was barely four months out of the Academy. She'd thought she'd been ready for it. She'd half guessed it had been the reason she had been summoned to the Rear Admiral's office. It had still come as a brutal blow when Commander Sun had told her she wouldn't be Commander Air Group for the _Medusa_ when she got back.

She was being reassigned to a Viper wing on the _Pegasus_. As a Rear Admiral's flagship, it wasn't quite seen as a demotion, although it most definitely felt that way!

The Hatch undogged (7) and Captain Susan 'Char' Usen braced to attention. Her two Marines copying her a moment later as Admiral Cain stepped out into the Life Station's main ward.

Susan looked at her new charge. She looked about 180 centimeters tall with a long mane of browny, blonde hair. Susan could see laugh lines around the older woman's generous mouth and could guess that she'd once been a loud cocky woman, like most pilots, but now she looked shrunken and battered. She had a desperate bewildered look in her eyes. Suddenly Susan felt a jolt of sympathy for the other woman.

"Captain Knight?" Susan asked a little uncertainly.

"Yes!" The Pegasus CAG started violently as if Susan had snuck up on her. Her voice was a dry croak. Gina Knight rather wildly focused on the young captain, visibly pulling herself together. She straightened up and met Susan's eyes in what obviously was supposed to be a firm look. It didn't quite make it. There were still a lot of clouds in the older pilot's troubled gaze.

"Yes Captain, can I help you?" This time Captain Knight's voice was calmer.

"Captain Knight, I'm Captain Susan Usen. I'll be in charge of your escort. We have a Raptor waiting for us on the starboard flight deck. If you'll come this way?" Susan gestured to the other side of the Life Station at the double sliding doors leading out into the Battlestar's hallways.

Captain Gina 'Midnight' Knight followed Susan's casual wave and stared at the doorway. For a second, the woman seemed to waver, actually wobbling on her legs. One of Susan's Marines stepped forward, hand outstretched to catch her but she caught herself and with an almost unconscious looking flick of her hand, declined any assistance. Squaring her shoulders, she looked at Susan again.

"Ok, Captain lets go." Captain Knight answered finally. The second of strength drained away and her shoulders slumped again. The _Pegasus_ CAG wilted right in front of 'Char'.

Susan grabbed her upper arm, afraid she'd fall, and found herself supporting a lot of the taller woman's weight. Gina Knight didn't shrug off the offered assistance this time and just followed along as Susan started leading her from the Life Station.

Susan Usen nodded to the two Marines. Turned and set off, Captain Knight walking by her side, still being half supported by her fellow CDF Captain. Marines falling in to flank the two officers.

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

"Keep it cool people! You're doing great. We're showing the Frakking machines but we don't need anyone getting cocky this late in the game!" Anders shouted. His voice barely audible against the distance and competing gunfire. Enough of his troops would have heard and he could already hear the shout being taken up and repeated.

Sam looked out at the battlefield. The Stranight Base had looked nice ten minutes ago, nothing special but nice. Now not so much. The parade ground lawns were ripped and cratered, mute witness to the Caprican resistance members' enthusiasm with shoulder-launched Missiles and Rocket Propelled Grenades.

Sam preferred it this way.

The sound of gunfire had died down slightly, been turned down a notch from its earlier intensity and it had been minutes since the last window-rattling explosion.

The surviving Cylon troops both Bioform and Centurion had retreated into Stranight base's headquarters building. Anders guessed that about twenty skinjobs and ten, maybe twelve toasters had made it to the big building and cover. It was funny, in the dozen or so encounters he'd had with the frakking things since the holocaust, Anders had never seen a Centurion try to take cover.

They weren't very good at it.

Around the edge of the lawn, across a perimeter of neat tarmac paths and roads stood the first ring of the base's buildings. A few small bungalows for visiting officers then the directly across from the HQ's main entrance stood the single story concrete block that made the base training center, flanked on either side by the mess hall and rifle range. The training center and mess hall walls facing HQ were covered in windows. The vast majority had been broken out and were now manned or womanned by rifle and machine gun wielding human Holocaust survivors.

Anders rested his elbow on a window ledge in the classroom he and his team were using, lining up a shot. Sam's weapon of choice was a SWAT issue SMG he'd grabbed from a Colonial Marshal's barracks. The submachine gun was basically useless at this range. Unless you were a hell of a good shot a trained marksmen, rather than a professional Triad player who hadn't touched a gun before the worlds ended.

Anders slowly squeezed the trigger. The gun chattered away and Anders watched chips of concrete fly and glass shatter as he emptied the oversized magazine across the front of the Cylon's building.

But it was great at making the Frakkers keep their heads down.

Centurions and Bioform Cylons were grouped around the main entrance and smaller side doors with a few in the first floor offices with windows, taking cover where they could. The higher two stories had small figures spread out on the balconies with four or five Centurions stationed on the roof. The Bioform Cylons were armed mostly with nine-millimeter CDF service automatics, although some held heavier pistols or rifles. The Centurions were only shooting with one weapon at a time in short bursts, in an effort to conserve ammunition.

"Frak!" Samuel Anders ducked as lucky shot from the Cylons blew a chunk out of the frame of the window he was crouching in.

"Watch it boss, looks like some of the toasters are finally using those computers they call brains to try and aim." Mitchell Drakes said from where the ex-survivalist sat with his back to the wall.

"Mother Frakkers, that's all we need!" Anders crab-walked over to Mitchell's side and dropped down next to him.

As soon as he vacated the window, another member of his team, Hillard, who had also been part of Sam's Team the C-Bucs from before the Holocaust took his place. The stocky Aquarian native carefully eased his rifle barrel over the edge of the windowsill. Firing off a quick burst before dropping back down to the floor and under cover.

Sam unhooked his walky talky from his belt, holding down the transmit button.

"This is Buc One to all Buccaneers. Tell your people to watch themselves and to keep their heads down. The bloody toasters have decided to try aiming for a change." Anders carefully secured the radio back to his side.

The human resistance members treated radios like gold. Always securing them after use, always knowing who had one and where they were. It had been a hard-learned lesson that cost them lives. The first records the Buccaneers had kept after the Holocaust had been a radio checklist. They were too useful to do without, especially in situations like this. Where the Buccaneers were spread out and all doing separate jobs, but they were only issued to squad leaders who had shown they treated them responsibly and used them sparingly.

The Cylons had shown they could track even the shortest transmission. Here it hardly mattered. The Cylons knew exactly where they were.

Anders and his team were in one of the classrooms in the training center. Tables and chairs pushed up against the blackboard to make room for the five fighters as they fired out of the room's windows. Discarded behind them were two grenade launcher and a spent missile tube. The black scorch marks from the weapons back blasts now burnt into the wall across from the window. The Buccaneers permanent signature on the room.

When the whole world died, there were plenty of opportunities to grab the neat guns.

"It's going good Sammy!" Jean Barolay said with a grin. She was at the next window over to Anders' right. Working her big hunting rifle with telescopic sight to good advantage.

Before they'd started raiding armories and government magazines, one of the survivalists they'd joined up with, Judith Amaz, had shown the C-Bucs how to modify the ammunition into metal-jacketed armor-piercing rounds and refitting guns into being able to handle them.

"Yeah looks that way Jean." Anders replied.

It had gone well. Better than Anders had hoped.

The ambush teams had taken the Cylon Centurions guarding the gates completely by surprise. Destroying the robots before they'd had time to fire a shot. Anders had been worried. This kind of direct assault wasn't the normal kind of attack the Buccaneers pulled. Their regular MO leaned more towards planting bombs in Cylon buildings or mines on roads than taking the invaders on in direct gun battles.

The storming of the base hadn't been quite so perfect, two dead, nine wounded and when a person was wounded by the .40 lumps of steel that Cylon Centurions threw around, he stayed wounded for a long time, usually losing a limb in the process. Thankfully, the three critical cases had all made it to the hospital truck they'd set up for this mission. The other six Buccaneers not so badly off, hit by the Humanoids pistols, had been patched up and were heading to the EVAC area with an escort. That left Anders with just 83 fighters and 70 foragers to look after.

There was a reason why the Buccaneers liked bombs, but overall this mission was going better than Sam had dared hope.

"Now all we have to do is get away with it." Anders finished as he scooped up his gun and moved back to covering his window.

_Delphi Spaceport Delphi City_.

The Delphi Spaceport was a large ring-like circular complex. Two stories tall in most places, it was pieced at regular intervals by forty-meter tall towers. These were boarding docks, oversized elevators that could adjust to the different design and class of ship that had, five months ago, regularly used the once busy port.

In its heyday, Delphi could be catering to a hundred ships at a time. Freighters or their shuttles docking on the outside of the ring while passenger ships took the inner surface.

Dozens of ships hadn't made it into the air during the Cylon attack, and dozens more hadn't made more than a few hundred meters before crashing back to earth, either shot down by marauding Scimitar fighters or betrayed by their own electronics and computers.

Crashing ships had destroyed whole sections of the port. More had burned in the unchecked fires that had raged. The Colonials of the City had panicked when the radiation, plagues and poisons of the Cylon attack had rained down on them, hundreds of thousands had rioted through the spaceport looking for any escape. Few had found anything but death here.

Now the port was a wasteland of burnt ships, abandoned cars, broken glass and the skeletal remains of its former inhabitants.

One section stood out. Here everything was as it had been. All the damage of the attack had been repaired, all the body's removed and only gleaming, pristine ships stood proud at the boarding docks.

Centurions marched through the commercial district that once catered to first class travelers or stood guard while Bioform Cylons strolled among the shops. This was the Delphi Province main base for the Cylon Legion of Liberation.

The area the Cylons had claimed covered six of the outer docks and four on the inner ring of the complex. Three of the freight docks were empty, one held a Colonial ship, a Flattop class, the multi-purpose hull configured for freight. The last two held Cylon heavy cargo transports stocky 700-meter long ships.

The two big ships dominated the area, polished silver and black metal standing out among the more subdued steel, titanium and exotic alloys of Colonial construction. They resembled large, smoothly rounded saucers with a wedge, rising up from midway down the gently sloping hull, growing taller as it went forward finishing in a squared off flat faced tower forming the ship's bridge.

Just over forty meters tall, at the highest points, the domed center of the ship and the bridge, the two rested on folded out strut landing gears. Elevated boarding tubes telescoped out from the space dock clamping on to the ships. Connecting just below the bridge section of their forward towers. Around the base of the Cylon ships, 12 ramps had folded down hatchways leading into the cargo holds.

On the inner side of the ring, only one was docked to the spaceport. A Colonial built, slim 345-meter long luxury Spaceliner, a boarding tube connected to the ships upper decks while hatches and ramps led into the Mercedes class spaceliner's lower sections. This was the _Alexandra._ The Cylon's command team using the Spaceliner as barracks and main office.

A crystal clear tone rang out. Cutting through the area, sounding again and again.

All activity stopped. Cylons whether Bioform or Centurion turned to face the Alexandra. The Centurions' red eye scanned back and forth as they received new orders then dozens of the robots turned and started marching. Human form Cylons started running or pulled radios and phones and started asking questions. The ones that ran broke into two groups, those that disappeared into the Delphi Spaceport building or those that headed out onto the tarmac landing field in the center of the complex. There landed in rows waited ranks of Heavy Raiders.

Three model-eight Bioform Cylons raced down the boarding ramp of the luxury liner's lowest cargo bay. All three were dressed in CDF uniforms with all the insignia and unit marks removed. A close scrutiny would have revealed tiny collar pins in the form of the ancient Kobolian character 'Eta' but most would have missed the old Kobolian equivalent of the number 8.

The three Number-Eights, each a perfect copy of the woman known as Sharon Valerii, joined the group of Human Form Cylons heading out towards the Heavy Raiders.

"What's going on?" A Number-Five asked. The Aaron Doral clone wore a neat suit. Its clean lines pulled askew by the strap of a large automatic pistol he had looped over his shoulders.

"Stranight Base is under attack by the Insurgents." The Number-Eight in the lead of the group answered. She, like all her sisters, was armed with a heavy Blaster pistol holstered at her waist.

"Damn, they're getting a bit full of themselves lately!" The Number-Five exclaimed.

"The Gestalt believes they're getting desperate. It has warned that attacks could be more frequent in the next few months until all the wild humans end up destroyed." A Number-Three commented. The group of Humanoid Cylons reached the ranks of Heavy Raiders and split up, each racing for an individual ship.

The Number-Eight that had answered the Aaron Doral copy's question clattered up the rear ramp into her Heavy Raider. She strode down the center of the ship's cargo section winding between the 9 Centurions that had loaded themselves aboard, through to the assault shuttle's cockpit. Here she found, the last Centurion of her platoon had already secured itself into the copilot's position. Modern Centurions weren't quite up to piloting but plugged into a Heavy Raiders computer, they could easily handle the shuttle's weapons and navigation.

"Confirm all Centurions are secured for flight and retract the boarding ramp." She ordered the robot as she strapped herself into the pilot seat.

"By Your Command." The emotionless mechanical voice answered, the Number-Eight heard the quite hiss of the hydraulics as the shuttle ramp closed.

The Heavy Raiders floated gently off the ground, they're anti-gravity lifting them up. As soon as they cleared the surface, landing gear folded up into the underside and they turned to face in the direction of the Delphi Mountains and Stranight Base.

Ten Heavy Raiders holding one hundred Centurions and ten Bioform Cylons lifted off from Delphi spaceport gaining speed and altitude as they went.

Reinforcements for the garrison at Stranight Base were on the way.

_Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Naxos examined the Leviathan memories.

Hostile species seemed much more common than had been predicted Naxos also found many designs and schematics that could in theory be turned to Leviathan defense. Two simple systems began construction as soon as Naxos found them.

But it was not enough.

Naxos found itself severely lacking in creativity. The giant consciousness could see logically that combining systems from several different sources would provide the needed solution.

But no matter how much effort was brought to bear, the correct connections were not made.

It had never been an issue before now. Naxos had built and repaired as gracious Hephaestus had willed.

Now for the first time Naxos desired to create something new and found that it could not.

It was infuriating.

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(1) Units of measurement in common use in the Uncharted Territories. Motra, roughly one metre.

(2) Cycles is year in Farscape speak.

(3) Luxan males can go into a berserk like fighting state known as Hyper Rage. Mostly young males are prone to this. It's one of the reasons that Luxans are forbidden to marry before their middle aged. D'Argo broke this law when he married early.

(4) Metra is Farscape speak for Meter or as we in Australia call them Metres. I'm sure you guessed but meh.

(5) Hope you enjoyed this! Don't forget to Review!

(6) Centuria were the basic tactical unit in the Legions of Rome commanded by a Centurion and made up of anywhere between Four to Ten Contubernia Eight man squads. Cylons use the term to mean one hundred Centurion Cylons. Each made up of 10; 10 Centurion platoons.

(6) CDF CMC and CMO. Colonial Defense Forces Colonial Marine Corps and the Colonial Marshals Office respectively.

(7) Dogged Undogged common nautical term used to describe locking and unlocking hatchway doors.

(8) Erp is what the translator microbes mis-translate Earth as. By the time Moya's crew started learning English it was to late Crichton was an Erpman now and forever.

Second A/N

Review Please!!!!!!!!!!!


	18. Chapter 18

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia, Battlestar Wiki and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

Got to mention the Farscape Encyclopedia its a huge resource that I refer to nearly every chapter.

Now with 100 percent more Beta testing thanks to IbrahimV

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Chapter 18

_Stranight Base, Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

Sam Anders had turned and leveled his gun at the kid bursting through the classroom door before he'd even consciously registered hearing the door handle rattle.

Four other guns of various calibers covered the same target as everyone in the room spun to face the door.

"Gods, Devlin! You want to get your fool head blown off!" Mitchell exclaimed, catching himself an instant before he pulled the trigger. The survivalist/hunter rotated his vintage, first Cylon war, Scorpian Blaster up, spinning it on his index finger through the trigger guard; until the big pistol pointed at the ceiling. He scowled at the 15-year-old orphan who had just scared the frakk out of him.

Devlin Scoria ignored him to scamper to Anders' side where he stood panting for a second, trying to get his breath back after an apparently mad sprint.

Until Sam reached up one big hand, grabbed the boy by his collar and threw him to ground.

"Down you idiot!" Anders bellowed, to be instantly drowned out by the sound of concrete being hacked to pieces by thumb-sized lumps of metal traveling at supersonic speeds. His window was slashed by a torrent of impacts from outside, as the Cylon's cut loose at the figure they'd briefly glimpsed.

As the other members of Anders team popped up from their own cover and returned fire, Sam hunched down next to Devlin.

"What's up kid?" Anders knew the 15-year-old was smarter than this. He had to have reason for acting like an idiot. People who normally stood up in the middle of gun battles didn't survive a month on their own, wondering around on post-Holocaust Caprica.

"Morgan sent me Sam. She says the signal is up!" Devlin finally panted out. Catching his breath after sprinting halfway across the base and then being thrown around like a ragdoll.

Anders hissed through his teeth.

The signal was a relay of his people stretched all the way from Stranight Base into Delphi City, ending in a skyscraper that overlooked the Delphi Spaceport. Equipped with mirrors and telescopes, it was the weakest and at the same time one of the most important part of the plan. Sam snatched up his radio.

"This is Buc One to all Buccaneers, IT'S TIME PEOPLE. We are leaving! Foragers drop what you're doing and leg it, Right Now! I don't care if you've just found Hera's holy balls (1), bugout! All team leaders fall back and disengage. GO! Highwayman it's your time to shine!" Anders shouted his orders at the radio then turned to his team.

"Load up the big guns, we'll give the toasters one last smack before we leave. The rest of you give us some cover." As he spoke, Anders slipped his machinegun over his shoulder, letting it hang by its carry strap around his back and out of the way.

The Triad star leaned forward and snagged the Missile launcher and the backpack he'd lain aside earlier. With quick practiced moves, he pulled the last meter-long missile from the ammo bag and set about reloading the launch tube.

Mitchell Drakes and Hillard Tailor both collected an RPG launcher and started loading them. They were the biggest men in the team after Anders, not essential to work the grenade launchers but every little bit helped.

The mirror signal was needed because no matter how free the humans could be with radio chatter, once they had already engaged the Cylons, using them anywhere else would be suicide. If the people watching the spaceport for signs of reinforcements heading out had tried to pass the word via radio, the Cylons would have zeroed in on them in a second.

Morris Fink and Jean Barolay, the last two members of Anders' team started firing, keeping undercover as much as possible. While throwing quick, not terribly well aimed shots towards the Cylons across the parade ground in the Headquarters building. The sound of intense gunfire spread as other fighters in the training center around them and the mess hall and rifle range and bungalows around the HQ building got the same idea.

Anders sited through the eyepiece and studied the aiming recticle, squeezing the trigger making the infrared laser pointer light up.

The Anti-Air Shoulder Launched Missile system used by the CMC had two targeting options. The tracking system, which could lock onto a specific frequency, like a ship's engine emissions or line of sight, where the gunner manually painted the target. The second option was what Sam used. The red dot appeared plainly visible on the wall of the Cylon held building.

Sam set himself for the shock, there wasn't much recoil but a rocket lighting off next to your ear was a hell of a distraction.

The Buccaneers' leader adjusted until his aim point was over a smashed-in window on the second story, just above the reception area. He'd seen movement there a few minutes ago and decided to ruin whoever was in there's day.

With two loud CRUMPTHS! Mitchell Drakes and Hillard Tailor cut loose with their RPG's. Anders made a small correction, flipped off the safety and pulled the trigger again.

SWOOSH! The missile leapt from the tube on his shoulder and disappeared through his window, leaving a trail of smoke. Overtaking the more leisurely-paced grenades, it cut a streak across the parade ground, leaving a thin trail of smoke barely visible in the morning light.

_Caprican Legion of Liberation, Delphi Provincial Outpost 03, HQ building, Stranight Base._

Jane Six screamed as she tried to cram herself deeper under her desk. Some momentary insanity had inspired her to try to save the work she'd been doing for the last week. It had probably saved her life, seeing the explosions that had consumed the reception area seconds after she left.

Jane spat out a mouth full of dust, pushed her chair out of her way and looked around. The hallway leading towards the front of the building was on fire and choked with broken and twisted filing cabinets and office furniture as well as the remains of at least one Centurion.

There were also some burnt bloody red bits that the Bioform Cylon woman decided she wasn't going to look at, and definitely wasn't going to think about.

It was moments like this that really made a Cylon wonder about how really immortal the download Resurrection process made her. If she'd stayed in that room a minute longer, would it really be her waiting in a queue in a memory buffer to be placed in a body or just her exact copy?

Jane decided she didn't want to find out. That had been her third close call in ten minutes and even her luck had to run out eventually. She had done her duty for the Gestalt and the great Cylon Empire for today.

It was time to leave.

Pausing only to grab her pistol from where she'd dropped it during the explosions. The Model Six sprinted back into the depths of the building, looking for a nice discreet window she could slip out of.

_Salida Town, residential area outside of Delphi City_

"GO! Highwayman, it's your time to shine!" Janis Thonn listened to Sam Anders' voice through his radio.

The Town of Salida predated Delphi by centuries, one of the first recorded settlements on Caprica and the place, local legend insisted, was the last place on the 12 worlds where the Lords of Kobol had met after they had created the star system.

It was a pretty town full of gardens and tree-lined streets. It had been something of a tourist trap before the Holocaust, playing up the local legends.

In other words, the small town had temples, lots and lots of temples. Graceful temples dedicated to Athena (4), fortified mansions dedicated to Ares (5), cathedrals dedicated to Zeus (6) and more. Dozens of them, built wildly out of proportion for the sleepy little town on the edge of the big city. In a town where the largest building was the three-story council offices, the smallest five-story temple stood out like a giant among midgets.

Janis Thonn looked around, he couldn't see his team of course, he would have beaten the stuffing out of any of his people that let themselves be seen. He had placed them himself, in bell towers and astronomical observatories. Shrines to greet the morning's first sunlight in Apollo's (7) name or welcome the night singing Nyx's (3) praises.

They'd been set up, waiting here in Salida for three days now, waiting for the sky to clear, so the signal could get through from the spaceport to Stranight Base. Now the waiting was over. Janis put his fingers to lips and let loose a piecing whistle. Reaching down and collecting his missile launcher from where it leaning against an altar to Zeus. It was Cylon season, time to go hunting.

_Raptor 09 on approach to Battlecruiser Hyperion, Gold Mine System._

Lieutenant Rachel 'Swan' Archela casually checked her Raptor's instruments, running her eyes over the Directional Velocity display, Trim, DRADIS, Gravity Control, Thrust and all the rest.

She didn't really need to, not for a quick taxi service from the _Hades_ to the 26-kilometer distant _Hyperion_. She could manage that in her sleep, all she needed were her eyes and the feel of her ship through the control yoke. Nevertheless, she was a professional and all the Raptor's gauges and info displays did make space flight a little safer after all. In a one-in-one-hundred scenario they could conceivably pick up some tiny detail that even a great pilot might miss. Besides, her instructors would kick her ass if they found out she hadn't followed procedure, not when there wasn't a damn good reason not to.

Out of the corner of her eye, 'Swan' cast a glance at her 'copilot' then had to look away again quickly when she saw he was looking in her direction. Glad, for once, for the bulky CDF helmet that covered most of her face as she felt her checks warm up. She'd had a huge crush on Commander John Crichton a year and a half ago and it looked like she wasn't quite over it yet.

Rachel Archela had been born in Castor Dome, the capital city of the asteroid Pollux, a Gemenese mining colony. She was an orphan, her parents having died when their small mine collapsed in a quake. Leaving a five-year-old Rachel by herself in the young couple's apartment. Their Strictly Traditional Gemenese families had disowned both her parents for running away to make their fortunes on Pollux. Neither set of grandparents had been interested in going through the convoluted and rigorous ceremonies needed to readmit to the family, a penniless female child. Especially one who was already contaminated by the sinks of depravity that most Gemenese believed other planets to be.(8)

Rachel had been raised at the Castor City Orphanage. Good people; that tried their best but underfunded and overcrowded.

At ten, she had been already working. She landed a job at a local restaurant. First as a general drudge, bottle washer and errand runner, then when she turned twelve as a waitress. At age fourteen, she'd spent the bulk of her savings, 110 Cubits, to buy a ticket to Gemenon.

On Gemenon she'd enrolled at the Kobol College, accepting their free tuition for those who wished instruction in the Book of Kobol. She didn't, but that was the only way they let you in without paying, Rachel wanted to be a pilot. The most opposite thing to mining, someone who'd lived her whole life in an artificial habitat could think of.

Rachel lasted three years, attending daily prey and Book study meetings, squeezing in other classes in her own time; when she should really have been sleeping. Then at Seventeen she'd escaped, with a level 3 pilot's license. Letting her apply for jobs as a copilot, flying second stick to experienced level 1 or higher rated pilots.

For five years 'Swan' had survived, getting odd jobs with Boonie Jumpers and on small owner/operator freighters. However, a seventeen-year-old, non-a-credited pilot trainee wasn't the most sought after employee and it was a buyer's market.

Rachel had sometimes worked for nearly nothing, just meals at one point and jobs were hard to come by. She'd scraped by, taking any job she could find. Going from cargo hand, to head toilet scrubber to stewardess and back again. Every now and then lucking out, grabbing a little more time behind the controls, working on her qualifications. Finally passing the test from level 3 to level 2. Then her luck had run out, the jobs had dried up.

Before long, she'd washed up, broke, with no prospects on Aerelon and answered a "Help Wanted" add in the local paper. It had promised adventure with meals included. Since she was close to starving at the time, the meals included part had caught her attention. So, she'd turned up at the dilapidated looking offices of the Moyan Group.

Hadn't looked back since, of course there wasn't a whole lot left to look back at, not anymore. The Cylon attack had seen to that; but Rachel still thought it was a good decision. It had seemed like a wild gamble at the time, considering how little her interviewer had been willing to tell her. She'd half suspected she was signing on with pirates.

Rachel checked the DRADIS again. It was considered good manners to contact a ship at 5 clicks and that looked to be coming up just about now. Keying in the right frequency, 'Swan' called the Battlecruiser she was rapidly closing on.

"_Hyperion_, this is Raptor 09 out of the _Hades_. Come in, over." The COM tech on the Battlecruiser answered and 'Swan' began the back and forth of proving who she was and explaining why she was there. It was all for show of course, if there was a single person on the _Hyperion_ who didn't know the when, where, who and what was approaching inside her Raptor, she'd eat said Raptor, in one sitting.

As she spoke to the communications officer on the Battlecruiser, Rachel diverted half her attention to eavesdropping on her commander. You never knew what John Crichton would come out with but whatever it was, it was generally worth listening to, for the comedic value if nothing else.

"Well there she is kids, the first CDF warship completely upgraded to Moyan standards." Crichton said, directing his words over his shoulder towards the Hyperion's new CO and CAG.

"Doesn't look much different to a normal Dreadnought class, sir." Commented the newly promoted Senior Lieutenant Louanne 'Kat' Katraine. The _Hyperion's_ new Commander-Air-Group. She had spent quite a while studying the_Helios_ when the other Dreadnought class Battlecruiser had flown in formation with the _Galactica_.

"Well, we didn't do much structural stuff and the armor is still standard CDF composite. Most of the upgrades were straight, pull the old gear out and stick our new stuff in." Crichton answered.

"I've studied the specs you gave us Commander and I have a question." Colonel Lee 'Apollo' Adama, the _Hyperion's_ new Commanding officer asked.

"No probs. All part of the service, shoot!" At the strangled silence, Crichton looked back at the two colonials. They were standing squeezed into the hatchway leading back into the Raptor's passenger compartment. Seeing the confused looks the new command team of the _Hyperion_ wore, Crichton sighed in frustration, and chose his words a little more carefully.

"Ask your question Colonel, that's the reason we're having this little ride. To sort out anything you might need to know before you take command." Crichton said, just stopping himself from speaking slowly and loudly as if the colonials were deaf idiots, they weren't, Crichton was almost sure of that.

"Thank you Commander." Lee said, he'd been almost positive that was what the _Hades'_Commander had meant but you don't guess with superior officers. "The power requirements on these defense screens are more than an old spec Dreadnought produces overall, wouldn't one be enough? Even with the generation capacity of the new Energizers, it's a huge drain."

"Nah! One defense screen won't get the job done. Defense Screens need at least two overlapping energy fields to protect the ship properly. The problem is in the shield generators or more precisely, in the medium that they have to do their work in. So we use two. They overlap, merge and cover the gaps in each other. If we had the space, I'd be happier with three. That's what we are planning for the Battlestars." Seeing that the Colonel was about to say something, Crichton jumped to the wrong conclusion, assuming that the new Colonel was about to complain about the substandard defense he had fitted on his ship. "But two's good! With two screens working in tandem your have between 97 and 99 percent coverage at any given moment."

"How do you mean sir? The medium that they have to do their work in?" Kat asked. Asking the question that Apollo had in fact, meant to.

Crichton thought a moment. "OK, the Defense Screen is a perfect mathematical construct projected onto real space/time. Capiche (2)?" Thankfully, both Colonials got that strange word, having picked up the meaning on the black-market "What-the-Frak-did-he-Just-Say" grapevine that had grown in Crichton's wake.

'Kat' Katraine was a bit fuzzy on what he meant by "perfect mathematical construct" but thought that she got the idea. Lee Adama thought he knew exactly what the other man meant.

They were both wrong but not enough to matter.

"The problem is that real life isn't perfect. There are, at any given nanosecond, thousands of electromagnetic events in the space the screen is going to occupy. Both the natural background noise in any given area of space and artificial, caused by the ship itself or other ships nearby. Now most of those events are too low-powered to affect the screen but when enough happen on top of each other and with enough power, the Defense Screen has a harder and harder time materializing. We make the screen as strong and as tough as possible, covering as many frequencies as possible, so mostly, it just rolls right over the top of any obstructions but some, no matter what we do, gum up the works and the screen doesn't form. Distortions appear the screen's auto-systems and operators try to compensate but still for a time there's a hole, which is not good. So we have another screen coming from the other end of the ship and any irregularities, even the most powerful, would have been noted by the shield system, so the other screen is ready for it and forms. Covering the gaps." Crichton explained.

Both the new Colonel and Senior Lieutenant's eyes had glazed slightly as they struggled to follow what they were being told.

Lee picked out a few tidbits that he'd caught that made most sense to him. He got the overall idea. Two screens overlapped to cover each other's weak points, it seemed sensible enough.

"Operators sir? It's not run by computers?" Colonel Adama asked.

"It is but with human oversight and direction. Wish I'd known that the first time I got my hands on one. It would have been a damn sight more useful and the poor thing might have lasted longer." Crichton answered.

Senior Lieutenant Katraine jumped in.

"What about the new guns Sir? From what we've been hearing, they will be a nasty surprise to the Cylons," She asked.

"Well that's the plan." John grinned at the young woman. "We replaced eighty percent of the Hyperion's point defense with chemical pumped lasers. Hardy, tough little buggers, quick firing, with enough juice to vaporize all but the largest Cylon rounds and cripple any incoming missiles or torpedoes. Then with the broadside, you've got your Medium Pulse Cannons, high-energy plasma weapons and again we left one cannon covering each line of approach as is. Both to save on power and to give the ship a wider variety in armaments. You never know when smacking the bad guy with a huge explosive shell will be your best option. Missiles are left as is. We're designing new faster, harder hitting missiles but its slow going, and not really a priority project."

"Then we come to the big guns, the turrets and the spinal mounts. Two of the three turrets are now Large Pulse Cannons, while a Frag Cannon, a Particle beam weapon, has replaced one of the two spinal mounted kinetic rifles. All in all, it should be a devastating combination." Crichton finished his spiel with a grand wave of his arm. Directing his audience's attention forward through the pilot's canopy at the view ahead.

While they'd talked, or really, while Crichton had lectured, Lieutenant Rachel 'Swan' Archela had piloted the Raptor around the _Hyperion_. Dipping under the 710-meter long, 88-meter high, 270-meters wide, Dreadnought class Battlecruiser. The single flight pod was extended projecting down from directly behind its blunt crocodilian command section.

Senior Lieutenant Louanne 'Kat' Katraine watched as the ship carrying her, lined up on the landing lights in the flight pod, wishing she'd been able to fly across on her own. It didn't seem right for a CAG to arrive on her new ship taxied around by someone else. But the _Hyperion's_ single oversized squadron was filled with the new Series Two Mark One Vipers and she was barely checked out on the Mark VII, being more at home in her old Mark II.

It had been a shock to receive her promotion and new assignment. Even if it had looked like everybody on the 'Bucket' was getting the same treatment. Nevertheless, she had the best scores in leadership, organization, tactics and strategy of all the mid-ranked pilots. Moreover, being one of _Galactica's_ overworked, undermanned pilots meant that her flight time, both in and out of combat, blew anybody who hadn't served through the last Cylon war right out of the water. Even with the little problem she'd had with stims as a black mark on her record, the only other pilot who'd come close was 'Hotdog' and he was already inline for CAG on the _Helios_. She just needed put in a whole lot of work to get up to speed on her new job and her new fighter.

Colonel Lee 'Apollo' Adama looked out at his first command as their Raptor was swallowed by the landing pod. This was something he'd trained his whole life for. He and his new XO, the also newly promoted Major Aaron Kelly, had spent most of yesterday pouring over the schematics, briefings and commentaries by Commander Crichton and the design and engineering teams that had refitted the _Hyperion_. He'd known what the Commander had just told them by heart before he'd ever stepped aboard this Raptor. It had just seemed stupid not to ask some questions of the man that had invented most of his ship's new systems.

He'd managed to cage a ride in Kara's Series Two Mark One Viper, just to try and get some kind of feel for what his pilot's would be flying. Bad timing, as it turned out his new CAG, Senior Lieutenant Louanne 'Kat' Katraine had had the same idea and turned up a few minutes after his launch to ask the same favor from 'Starbuck'. It probably would have been better for her to take the fighter out, though 'Apollo' couldn't find it in himself to regret it. He'd never flown anything like that ship.

He had studied everything he could find on the original, unaltered by Moyan technology, Dreadnought class Battlecruisers, he'd bitten the bullet and asked Colonel Tigh and even his father for whatever advice they could think of.

Now here he was and he just hoped all he'd done was enough.

_Delphi Province, Cylon Occupied Caprica._

"Go." Sue-Shaun ordered her driver.

Sidney Green threw the big engine into gear and eased the armored bulk forward. These things weren't the easiest to drive and her previous experience with mine trucks wasn't as much help as she'd hoped.

Sue-Shaun watched out the passenger side slit window as her APC rumbled out onto the road following the last truck in the convoy.

_Quick Response Assault Unit in flight over Delphi City._

Flying at 'in atmosphere' speeds, the flight of ten Heavy Raiders were still making good time. ETA for Stranight Base was only seven minutes.

The model Eight piloting the lead Heavy Raider was enjoying herself immensely. She didn't particularly relish the idea of slaughtering humans; that this flight would inevitably lead to, but it had been months since she'd had the opportunity to fly and she was enjoying herself while she could.

Eight watched Delphi City slip by under her Heavy Raider. It had been a city of glass sided skyscrapers and pylon elevated sky complexes dotted with small green parks. Now the skyscrapers looked pockmarked, covered in black spots where the glass had broken and the parks had mostly burned.

Streets and elevated train tracks covered the jumble in a pattern of right-angled lines bringing order to chaos, now clogged with the rubble of collapsed buildings and wrecked cars.

Windows hadn't fared well during the Day of Liberation and from the height of the passing formation of Heavy Raiders; the ruined city looked like it was sprinkled with diamond dust. Meter-long shards of glass glittered in the light of the morning sun.

"Data' Satellite Intel reveals 33 vehicles have exited Stranight Base heading by road for route 81. High likelihood, vehicles are under the control of Insurgent forces reported to have assaulted Stranight Base." The Centurion Copilot reported in a dull monotone.

Eight thought quickly, the Fast Response Team she was leading had been tasked with reinforcing the Stranight Base garrison and securing the base but the main order of business was the neutralization of the Insurgents. Stranight Base would just have to wait.

"Plot best course to intercept Insurgent forces." The bioform Cylon ordered.

"By your command." Its single red eye floated back and forth as the Centurion interfaced with the Heavy Raider's navigation computers.

"New course ready." The Centurion reported after a second's calculation.

"Relay new course to the rest of Fast Response Team." Eight ordered as she scanned the new headings and waypoints scrolling across her heads up display.

"By your command."

Eight clicked on her radio and scooped up the handset, one handed.

"Lead to all FRT pilots. The Insurgents are running. If we let them get back to the mountains, it'll take months to dig them out. You all are receiving the new course. We will intercept them in five to six minutes. Lead out." The Model Eight hooked the handset back into its recess in the instrument panel and let her hand settle back onto the grip of her Heavy Raider's control yoke.

Flying wasn't quite as much fun now as it had been a minute ago.

_Cylon occupied Caprica, Delphi Province, Stranight Road, heading towards Interprovincial highway 81._

The Buccaneers hadn't limited themselves to only loot that they could fit on the back of their trucks. Plenty of the CDF vehicles in the Stranight Base motor pool had looked useful as well. The only limiting factor was finding someone who could drive the things.

Six armored personnel carriers roamed the edges of the convoy while a phalanx of four Landrams raced ahead.

The other twenty-three vehicles in the Buccaneers column three prime movers the Buccaneers had found the big engines in a Zurich transport compound. Each pulling two packed 18-wheeler flatbed trailers, road train style, twelve delivery trucks of dozens of different shapes and sizes scavenged from all over the Delphi Mountains, three long back family cars, three big tipper trucks and the final two remaining, machinegun equipped Humvees. The old obsolete scout vehicles had been popular among the survivalist community living in the Delphi province and the Buccaneers originally had had eight of them along for the Stranight assault. But the APC's and Landrams had been too tempting, so several of the scout cars had been abandoned.

The whole mob roared along the wide tarmac road winding away from Stranight Base through the old forest. Stranight Base had been built out of the way, on a high plateau in the rising foothills of the Delphi Mountains. Stranight road worked its way down to near sea level, zigzagging back and forth before it connected with the Interprovincial highway system that crisscrossed the continent.

_Raptor 01 Eagle Squadron out of the Battlestar Medusa en route Cauldron System._

Susan Usen watched her charge. The older woman was slumped in the Raptor's passenger bay wall seat across from her. Gina Knight hadn't raised her eyes from her contemplation of the deck for the last hour. All through the pre-flight checks to the launch from the _Pegasus_, she'd sat eyes downcast, ignoring the world around her. Susan's Raptor was now 2 jumps into a projected 10-jump sequence that would terminate in the Cauldron system.

Susan had considered trying to strike up a conversation with her fellow ex-CAG but quite frankly, the 18-year-old couldn't think of any topic that wouldn't sooner or later, lead straight into the Cylon thing, which she didn't really feel confident in tackling. All the classic openers from 'Which Colony' to shoptalk about Vipers would be tainted.

In the end, Susan had resigned herself to an awkward silence the rest of the flight.

They would be stuck in the passenger bay together for another several hours, the mission didn't call for emergency speeds; so Susan had ordered a thorough scan of each system they were passing through, to give the FTL drive a chance to spin down between each jump.

Despite being rated to carry a squad of eight marines in tactical armor, the passenger bay seemed crowded with the extra pilot, two Marines and the two Captains.

_Quick Response Assault Unit in flight over Delphi Province._

The buildings and roads of Delphi City soon gave way to the evergreen trees of Phaunos (9) forest.

Eight added a touch of power to thrust, increasing the lumbering Heavy Raider's airspeed. The boxy spike sided ships weren't designed for 'in atmosphere' operations, being more at home in space. Eight would have preferred to use captured Colonial Raptors but the infrastructure to keep the Colonial transports in operation was well and truly trashed. Some Basestars were converting a portion of their service bays to cater to the more planet operationally useful ships; but results were weeks away and it would be months before they became available to ground based forces like the Caprican Legion of Liberation.

As it was, the flight of 10 Heavy Raiders kept just below 200 kilometers an hour, a balance between thrust and gravity control. Just under the speeds where wind shear would rattle the armored boxes hard enough to start straining their hull. Flying in a loose line abreast formation at seventy meters above ground level, staying well clear of the towering 50-meter tall ranks of Lodgepole pines that made up the bulk of Phaunos forest

The Humanform pilot could just make out the towers of Salida Town ahead, showing above the treetops.

The alarm came as a complete surprise.

"We are being targeted." Eight ignored the Centurion's stating of the obvious. She was already throwing her Heavy Raider into a dive and slamming power into thrust.

"Lead to all units! Go evasive now! We're under attack!" Eight screamed into the COM's she barely remembered ripping from the console.

She dropped it as soon as she finished speaking. Needing her spare hand to fight for control of her suddenly bucking and twisting ship. Eight strained against the control yoke as wind caught and dragged at every flat surface on the squared off Heavy Raider, wishing they'd given at least some thought to concepts like aerodymatics when they'd designed the things.

"Bring ECM online and deploy countermeasures!" Eight ordered. She was dropping down to treetop level trying to pick up as much speed as the Heavy Raider could handle.

"By your command."

"Frak!" As Eight pulled out of her power dive, going twice the recommended 'in atmosphere' speed for a Heavy Raider. She wrenched the control yoke sharply back to avoid two fireballs that suddenly blossomed ahead.

Remains of her wingmates who weren't as good, or as lucky as she was, tumbled from the sky. Eight struggled with the control yoke and gravity controls turning her ship on its side to slip between the tumbling wreckage.

The screaming alarm flooding the cockpit cut off. As Eight's wild maneuvers and the ships awakening electronic counter measure's suite threw off the missile lock.

"Damn." A quick scan of DRADIS showed only four other green icons in range, half her force gone in seconds.

"Where the **Hell** did they come from?" One of her pilots demanded over the radio, in the voice of a Model 5.

"The trees! They're shooting at us from the forest." A confused babble rose over the speakers as the surviving Cylons tried to speak over each other.

"Quite! Keep your eyes on your DRADIS!" Eight snapped, silencing her subordinates, cutting them off, before they could panic themselves.

The five remaining Heavy Raiders had continued on while their pilots talked. Despite the evasive maneuvers they'd undergone to shake the pursuing missiles, the reduced squadron was on the same broad course they'd started on; and quickly closed on the towers of Salida Town.

The wailing cry of the missile lock alarm ignited again.

"Loose decoys and increase speed!" Eight snapped to her wingmates.

Eight spared a glance at her DRADIS and bit back a curse. Half her ships gone and the rest spread out all over the place, there was no way they could synchronize their ECM efforts or support each other in any way.

It was every pilot for herself.

It was obvious that the attackers had a solid read on the Heavy Raiders electronic emissions, they shouldn't have been able to get a decent lock through the counter measures the computer was pumping out. But Heavy Raiders had been flying all over Caprica unmasked for months now. A schoolchild with the electromagnets ripped from the speakers of their home entertainment system could have isolated a signature for the ships in that time.

Whoever they were, it looked like the Insurgents were better equipped than that.

Eight's Heavy Raider was climbing rapidly, the frame rattling around her as the wind clawed at the hull. The control yoke withered and tried to jerk from her grip as the ship fought against cross winds and air resistance. The missiles would have a speed advantage but limited range and endurance. Eight knew if she were lucky, she should just be able to leave them in her wake.

DRADIS showed a wave of at least thirty missiles rising from the small town and closing on the fleeing Heavy Raiders.

"Start prepping for FTL." The Humanform ordered and quickly blotted sweat from her brow with her uniform tunic's sleeve.

"By your command." The Centurions reverberating monotone actually served to steady Eight's shaky nerves.

"FTL ignition. Time to full spin, one minute, five seconds." Her Centurion reported.

"Frak!" Jumping in atmosphere and especially in atmosphere close to a large gravity well caused FTL drives to misalign and degrade like nothing else you could do to them. While in space, a Cylon FTL was generally kept at quarter power, a gentle rotation that could be maintained for months with no problem. In a planet's air envelope, that standby level would quickly cause damage and system failure. Drives were kept locked down and depowered. Which meant they were useless in this situation, the wave of missiles would be in range in thirty seconds.

"Standby decoys." Eight ordered.

"By your command."

Eight changed course, slightly angling her Heavy Raider away from the approaching missile storm, buying herself an extra few seconds.

"This is Fast Response Squadron out of Delphi! We are under attack. Requesting immediate antimissile support." Caprica was a no fly zone since the Gestalt had taken up residence in orbit, but there were still hundreds of patrol and garrison forces stationed on the planet. The chances of any of them being in position to be of any help to the remnants of the Stranight Base relief force were slim to none. But it was possible that a patrol of Scimitars or a group of point defense equipped Heavy Raiders could arrive in the next twenty-five seconds. Slim but possible.

"Repeat this is Fast Response Squadron out of Delphi provincial command! Come in please." Eight repeated then glared at the silent radio. "Check Com frequencies."

"By your command."

"Communication is being disrupted in the local area by an overriding signal." The silver robot calmly reported.

"The humans are jamming us? They can't do that!" Eight shrieked.

The Bioform Cylon could feel the Centurion by her side turn to look at her and regard her with its red pulsing eye.

"Shut up!"

Eight shook off her shock, the humans were still able to jam Cylon communication! After months of occupation? It boggled the mind. Quickly she dropped it needing to be concentrating on business, and checked her DRADIS again. The waves of red icons were closing in fast.

They'd run out of time.

"Launch decoys." The bioform Cylon woman snapped out. Eight pushed the control yoke sharply forward and to the right. Throwing her Heavy Raider into a sharp swooping dive

As the enemy contacts drew closer to the ship, the DRADIS screen updated constantly showing the airspace around the Heavy Raider in higher and higher detail. Eight kept one eye glued to it as she threw her ship into a series of as wild maneuvers, as she could.

The canopy blinked, automatically darkened to nearly solid black as a brilliant explosion erupted seemingly meters away. Eight watched as the flaming wreck of another Heavy Raider fireballed and spun out of sight, trailing smoke, and a litter of torn metal.

On DRADIS, three small red dots had stuck behind the green arrow representing her Heavy Raider. Two decoys detached and arced away to either side falling behind. One red dot followed the bait and the red and green icons disappeared in a tiny blib.

Completely out of sync with reality as Eight felt the extra shudder run through her ship's hull as the shock wave of the decoy's death washed over her Heavy Raider.

Forward through the canopy, Eight could see the forest shooting up towards her. Once she pulled up out of the power dive, they'd lose speed and the missiles would be on them. At this point, the best she could hope for was that if she cut it close enough went in at a steep enough angle, the missiles wouldn't be able to match her moves and they'd overshoot.

Gritting her teeth, the bioform Cylon pushed the control yoke forward an extra centimeter. Increasing her decent angle. The Heavy Raider nosed down diving towards the sea of green.

"Launch decoys!" Eight ordered again. Probably useless but they might have loaded extras by mistake. She was running out of ideas.

"Unable to comply, decoys depleted." Her Centurion copilot reported.

"Damn."

"Brace yourself!" Eight shouted.

"By your command." The Centurion calmly reached out with its claw like hand and clamped down on the supports lining the interior of the gleaming silver cockpit.

Eight threw her whole weight onto the command yoke and wrenched backwards. The antigravity drives whined as they battled the planet's pull and the Heavy Raider's built up momentum, 13 tons of alloyed metal and super dense ceramics that had, a second ago been powering straight down towards the earth tried to reverse course.

The Heavy Raider's cockpit pulled up slowly, millimeter by millimeter.

Trees filled the forward view, all that Eight could see.

Then a glimpse of blue as the Heavy Raider twin forward spikes slowly pulled up.

More, then a little more.

Suddenly Eight could see sky. The humanoid Cylon straightened the command yoke. Her muscles aching, but Eight grinned when she heard and felt the explosion just behind her ship.

A quick glance at DRADIS wiped the grin from her face in an instant.

"Frak."

DRADIS showed a single red icon all but touching her Heavy Raider. Without conscious thought, her left hand darted down, reaching for the lever at the base of her chair. With a single yank, the cockpit's bulkhead hatch would slam shut and explosive bolts would decapitate the ship, severing the forward section.

The bioform Cylon's fingers had barely brushed the handle when a tremendous crash shook the Heavy Raider like a leaf and a thunder roared from behind her. Scorching heat washed over the Cylon woman and Eight missed with her frantic grab. For a split second, Eight could actually feel the moisture being sucked from her body then flames blasted out of the rear compartment and swallowed her whole.

In her final second, the Model Eight saw the tough ceramic canopy crack and begin to bulge. The human body she had existed in for over a year, her entire life, was reduced to a charred ruin, throwing her mind out into subspace as a packet of condensed data screaming in pain.

_Moyan ship the Guard, in orbit Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Senior Lieutenant Leda Croft stood at casual attention as she waited for the airlock to cycle.

A short woman with pleasant, if unremarkable, features, light brown hair cut neatly just above her shoulders, at 38 years old, it was prematurely graying hair and there were too many deeply drawn lines about her eyes and mouth.

Leda was about as a mundane a figure as could be found aboard the refitted Cylon Hunter-Killer corvette brought into the service of an alien/human run mercenary company. She should have faded into the background in the small boarding anteroom overshadowed by the two ranks of rifle wielding Marines, five on each side of the airlock hatch, the _Guard's_ entire complement.

She didn't. Standing at ease, idly waiting for the VIP's to finish working their way through the _Guard's _rather awkward boarding procedure.

Leda Croft dominated the room. Anybody who entered would have his or her eyes drawn to her straight away; and it would take an unusually observant individual to even notice the honor guard at first glance.

The airlock cycle finished, the warning light above the hatch changed from red to green.

It wasn't exactly necessary anymore. Before the refit, the shuttle would have had to dock to the hull, airlock to airlock to keep a breathable atmosphere intact. It had not been a high priority for the Cylon crew or designers of the _Guard_ and its small craft but now they had an extendable umbilical arm that could lock onto shuttles in the docking bay. Still, even if it would, in theory, be safe to open the _Guard's_ interior straight into the shuttles; once the umbilical arm was connected and sealed. It was safety policy that everything should be done in stages. It would only take one leak and they could lose half the Corvette's oxygen in seconds.

In the next refit when the_Guard_ would be brought to Moyan standard, the landing bay would be rebuilt so it could be pressurized but that wouldn't be until the _Guard's_ sister ship the _Defender _finished its own refit.

The hatch opened and Leda had a hard time keeping her cool expression as the towering Luxan stepped out, leading the group. 213 centimeters tall, the creature had to duck his head to get through a hatch designed for Model 0005 Cylon Centurions.

Thankfully, Master at Arms, Sergeant Thetas didn't let the newcomers distract him from his duties.

"Attention!" The old CDF veteran bellowed and the Marines snapped to. Rifles crashed as the_Guard's_ Marine contingent welcomed two of the leaders of the Moyan group onboard.

Leda wrenched her gaze away from the red giant and ran a quick appraising eye over the four women following him onto her ship. Chiana, the other alien, looked younger than Leda expected. Seran, a Xarai commando, part of Commander Crichton's personal staff and someone Leda had met a few times before. Sharon Valerii, the new bit of strange, the universe had thrown up a human/Cylon… something that was now apparently joining the Moyan Company. And of course, Clara Tores, who had been, until recently, one of the _Guard's_ command team.

Leda stepped forward and looked up, WAY UP, to meet the Luxan's eyes before offering her salute.

"General Ka D'Argo, welcome aboard the _Guard_." Leda said.

Senior Lieutenant Croft watched as the Luxan, Ka D'Argo, studied her salute for a second and then placed his hand over the center of his chest and bowed very slightly. She took that as an answering gesture and she removed her right hand from its rigid position just above her brow.

She turned her gaze on the others and offered them a welcoming nod. "Councilor Chiana, Lieutenant Valerii, Private Seran, welcome aboard the _Guard._Clara good to have you back even if you're only passing through."

"I am Senior Lieutenant Croft the _Guard's_ first officer. If you will follow me, I will show you to Captain Croft's ready room, where we have a small meal laid out for you. I can also offer you a quick tour of the _Guard_ before the yacht is due to leave for the _Nauru_."

Leda waved towards the hatchway, out into the _Guard's_ hallways. As the group from Rovhu filed past her, the _Guard's_ XO turned to Sergeant Thetas.

"Master-at-Arms, dismiss your Marines please." Senior Lieutenant Croft ordered.

"Ma'am! Right you lot, you heard the XO! Dismissed." Sergeant Thetas barked.

Leda left him to it, walking briskly to join the visitors in the corridor outside.

The group moved quickly through the Corvette's corridors, designed for Centurion use, they were comfortably roomy for slimmer beings. As they walked, Chiana worked her way closer to the _Guard's_ XO. Skipping around the edge of the group the young Nebari settled into place next to her target.

She listened for a second to Clara Tores pointing out the few items of interest in the near featureless silver/grey corridors they were passing through then turned and regarded Senior Lieutenant Croft, to find the woman looking back at her with a quizzical expression on her face.

Chiana gave the older human woman her best smile.

"Hi! You called me Councilor, what's that?"

Leda Croft answered the girl's smile with one of her own; though with a little uncertainty to it. She didn't get down to Rovhu as often as most of the _Guard's_ crew and the last time she'd seen Chiana, the Nebari female had been a blue statue.

"I'm sorry ma'am, was that the wrong title? Commander Crichton's description of your duties was … colorful… and that was the best the Captain and I could come up with." Leda explained.

Chiana nearly stumbled over her own feet in shock. A large part of her time since she'd woken up on Rovhu on the Cauldron; had been wondering what she could possibly do to contribute to her friends' efforts, in this new strange place.

Since Seran had first called D'Argo by his old rank of 'General' in Pilot's Den, it had been obvious as to what position he could fill in the Moyan Group. Aeryn was apparently doing what she usually did, hitting people and blowing things up and Crichton was being Crichton.

But what could a nothing, little tralk (14), like her do?

She'd imagined sitting around, ignored by one and all and every time she opened her mouth to say something, one of the others would pat her on the head and tell her to leave the important stuff to the grown ups. Half her time had been spent depressed about her guess on what the future held, while the other half of her time had been spent frothing mad and planning what she'd do to Crichton once she got a hold of him.

Chiana realized she'd been lost in her own thoughts too long and the Human was waiting for an answer. Thinking quickly she gave the _Guard's_ first officer her most harmless/friendly look. What Crichton called "her puppy dog expression".

"That Crichton! The 'Old Man' does ramble on! Ah … what did he say? I'll set you straight." Chiana said/asked.

"Well, the way Commander Crichton explained it, you would be a liaison of sorts with the Colonial government, keeping an eye on the frakking politicians! Over seventy percent of Moyan equipment, not counting the _Hades_ or the _Medusa,_ is on loan to the CDF, CMC or the CMO and really, we want it like that. They need our ships and resources to survive which is as Commander Crichton says, behavior we want to encourage." Leda grinned slightly. As a ex-Category One prisoner sentenced to life time imprisonment with no possibility of parole, she could appreciate her chosen Commanders gallows humor.

"But at the same time, we don't want to come out of this war any poorer than we need to be. So someone has to watch the Colonial government and the politicians on the Quorum of Twelve and the _Hades'_ Civilian Council or any others we pick up later. And be ready to sic our lawyers on them, if they start making noises about nationalizing our gear. Or if it looks like its best for everyone if they do end up owning some of our ships; or if they need a few billion tons of ore we have lying around, someone has to make sure we get a fair price for it." Leda Croft finished. It seemed a huge task to lay on someone as young as this girl seemed to be to the _Guards_ XO. But Commander Crichton seemed to think it was a job the alien woman was born for.

Chiana walked along in silence as she and the rest of her party were led through the _Guard's_ halls and corridors. Watching the humans to make sure they didn't steal Moyan gear? Getting the best deal for anything they did sell? Chiana grinned. She could do that and she could do that brilliantly!

Aeryn, Crichton and D'Argo would be blown away at just how great a … what did that woman call it? A Councilor. At just how brilliant a Councilor she could be!

She'd make sure; not only wouldn't they be poor by the time they left this sector of space, the Nebari promised herself. She'd make the Moyan Group so rich they'd need their own Shadow Depository (12) just to hold all the money they had!

"Nope! You were right! Councilor is the right name. I just got a little confused with my Kobolian, still getting your language down pat! Anyway, there's no need to be formal. We're all Moyans here, just call me Chiana." Chiana told her new friend, throwing a comradely arm over the older woman's shoulders and giving her a squeeze. That was drad (13) too, Chiana thought, she couldn't remember the last time she'd met someone shorter then her. Except for Rygel of course.

Thinking of her buddy, Dominar Rygel the Sixteenth, made the Nebari grin even wider. Rygel would be so jealous! Not that the little toad would admit it; but Chiana would know! When they met up with Moya and the others again and he saw what she'd done, yeah, he'd be jealous all right! Heh, maybe if he asked nicely, Chiana would lend him a few million Credits to help finance his rebellion on Hyneria.

Leda Croft looked aghast at the suddenly friendly alien that had slung an arm around her shoulders. The Nebari girl suddenly snickered to her herself and it was all the normally composed Senior Lieutenant could do to not violently flinch away from her.

She could see why Commander Crichton said the grey alien was like a sister to him. Once you got to know her a bit; the similarities between them were startling.

_Scimitar Lambda 34 - 0217 Outer System Operetta System.  
_

_  
_Lambda 34 ghosted through the outer reaches of the Operetta System coasting at 9 PLS. Power was cut to the vast majority of Its Scimitar class body, just a tiny trickle to life support and passive sensors.

This was the second pass through the Operetta System, scouting for the fleeing Nautilus class Colonial Frigate, the _Copperhead._

On the first pass, the scouting force of twenty Cylon fighters had detected a collection of refined minerals corresponding to the makeup of Colonial spacecraft near the orbit of the system's only atmosphere-supporting planet.

Now, on the scouting forces' second pass, after drifting straight through the system until they were out of possible enemy sensors range, powered up their drives and headed for a new course. The twenty Scimitars covering a wide swath of space closed on the contact. They would pass it, each Scimitar skirting the edge of the contact its full processing power both organic and inorganic focused on pulling every iota of Data from their passive sensors.

Ten shadowy contacts of metal and radiation lay within the sector that Lambda 34 would pass closest to, they were Its targets.

The readings collected by its passive sensors were … disappointing. Lambda 34 had hoped to be the first to positively ID the Battlestar _Medusa_. But, so far, all it had cataloged were four 650-meter long flattop class multipurpose hulls, three frigates of the Nautilus class and a single Planet Taxi Class Medium Transport. The next contact as the Scimitar drifted closer sparked its interest, measuring 1220 meters long but as data was refined, it turned out to be a Ring Liner class Passenger Liner.

If it could have sighed in frustration, the Cylon piloting intelligence would have. It would be eight seconds before it collected enough data to make any identification on the next target. Lambda 34 decided to spend the time examining the frigates. Gamma 12, one of the survivors of the Basestar _0209_ incident in the Nike System had expressed a desire to meet the Nautilus class frigate, the _Copperhead_, in battle again. Lambda 34 worked to determine which of the three available had destroyed the Gamma patrol in the Tern System.

The last contact came fully into range for meaningful readings and Lambda 34 dismissed frigates from Its mind.

Data streamed in, filling holes and building a picture. 1045 meters long, 340 meters wide and 275 meters high. Energy readings in CDF military levels but ragged and uneven, as if the ship's energizers were damaged.

High power DRADIS sweeps radiating from the ship's bow and stern illuminated the large new contact for Lambda 34's own passive sensors to see. Tylium and radiological traces at near lethal levels for human and biological Cylons, large quantities of oxygen and nitrogen, a wide range of chemicals and minerals spread around the main body in a frozen cloud.

Classic indications of damage, extensive damage which had caused disruptions to the ship's internal systems that hadn't yet been repaired by the ship's crew from Lambda 34's interpretation of the gathering data.

Warbook quickly built a silhouette and began comparing it to known ship designs. It took an uncommonly long time, while it waited for a positive, ID Lambda 34 drifted past its segment of the enemy fleet and out into deep space, continually collecting data and building reports for when it cleared enemy detection range and could safely jump back to Basestar _0217_.

The Warbook finally settled on an answer, Lambda 34 explored the findings.

Heracles class Battlecruiser.

Length 1045 meters  
Height 275 meters  
Width 340 meters

Weapon Systems.

3 Spinal Mounted Heavy Kinetic Rifles.  
2 Bow mounted Heavy gun bunkers.  
3 Stern mounted Heavy gun bunkers.  
4 Super-Heavy Turrets. Portside.  
4 Super-Heavy Turrets Starboard.  
16 Heavy turrets Portside  
16 Heavy turrets Starboard.  
24 Heavy cannon bunkers Port broadside armaments.  
12 Medium cannon bunkers Port broadside armaments.  
24 Heavy cannon bunkers Starboard broadside armaments.  
12 Medium cannon bunkers Starboard broadside armaments.  
4 VLS missile batteries. Upper hull total 72 tubes  
3 VLS missile batteries. Lower hull total 54 tubes.

Metal Storm Advanced Point Defense Suite.

Small ship compliment.

3 Squadrons Mk IV Raptor. 15  
8 Mk IX Shuttles. 8

Chief Designer and Head Technician project Heracles: Admiral Allen 'Barricade' Seholm, Colonial Defense Forces Bureau of Ships.

Heracles class Battlecruiser, prototype _Heracles_ designed and built by the Colonial Defense Force technical division. Note no production model ever completed, design discontinued in favor of the Heavy Battlecruiser series, which relied on the orthodox landing pod, fighter wing design.

Intended to replace the Dreadnought class Battlecruiser as the primary escort ships for Battlestar's, due to begin production in time to accompany the new Mercury class Battlestar. The Heracles class Battlecruiser proved too radical a change in design principles.

The core idea of the Heracles class stated that, as the new Mercury class Battlestar's would field twice the combat squadrons of the original Battlestar that the ship's escorts would be wasted in also devoting space to more fighters.

A heavier weapon/point defense orientated platform was decided on and the Heracles class Battlecruiser was designed and a prototype built.

After three years of trials, the new class warship was ultimately rejected as being too far outside the CDF's design philosophy. The replacement the Heavy Battlecruiser class was still in the design stage and was not expected to begin production before Liberation, if at all.

Lambda 34 sped on, moving further and further away. Soon it would leave the area covered by the human's sensors. Then it could power up its FTL drives and return to it's home Basestar.

Lambda 34 hadn't had a lot of interaction with her but from what little the Scimitar mind knew of her it felt that D'Anna Biers would be pleased with its report.

_Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Work on the Defense Screen and Electronic Counter Measure defensive devices was proceeding at an excellent pace, much to Naxos' surprise.

Naxos had anticipated grave difficulties in reformatting the designs to best integrate them into the Leviathan's systems.

Nonetheless, it had become apparent that those blocks on Naxos' creativity that had so hindered its work on new systems, only covered creating or combining new designs.

Adapting them to their best advantage in a Biomechanoid organism was not covered in the prohibition.

Again, Naxos found it hard to follow mighty Hephaestus's reasoning.

If one set of actions needed to be prohibited, why not the other?

-

-

-

-

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A/N 

Metra is not Farscape for Metres. I was wrong ,wrong ,wrong! Thankfully JovianJeff was on the ball and has pointed out that Metra equals Kilometers. But what I meant was meters as Rohvu doesn't have kilometers a depth for the Goo to recede into. The word I was after was A Samat is a unit of length equivalent to a foot. Sorry all these problems will fixed one day.

(1) Hera Zues's wife and one tough, mean bitch.  
(2) Capiche slang, from Italian: capisci? "Do you understand?"  
(3) Nyx the primordial goddess of the night.  
(4) Athena Goddess of Wisdom.  
(5) Ares God of War.  
(6) Zeus King of the Gods, ruler of Mount Olympus.  
(7) Apollo God of poetry, music, light and the sun.  
(8) Castor and Pollux are both Greek mythological and astronomical figures related to Gemenon.  
(9) Phaunos Greek god of the forests.  
(10) Reviews and comment welcome … well not really welcome more like desperately sort after?  
(11) Just to clear things up Naxos never had anything to do with the Uncharted Territories and Isn't related to the other servant of Hephaestus (11a) that appeared in the Royal Colonies episode of Farscape and wanted Moya to kill herself because she gave birth to Talyn. Zhaan kicked his ass!  
(11a) Hephaestus the Lord of Kobol never had anything to do with the Leviathan Builders in canon Farscape. That's completely my own creation for the Battlestar Farscape books.  
(12) Shadow Depository -A secure bank that asks no questions of its patrons. It is heavily guarded and defended. A feature of the Uncharted Territories used by criminals and run by semi legitimate ex-criminals.  
(13) Drad -meaning best or wildest or cool, neat something like that.  
(14) Tralk -A disparaging slang term, which seems to be slightly versatile in use, but mainly to mean trollop, slut, or amoral individual.

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	19. Chapter 19

Battlestar Farscape

By Mackon

I do not own Farscape or Battlestar Galactica. Writing this to entertain not for profit.

All power to Wikipedia, Battlestar Wiki and the Battlestar Galactica: Technical Manual for a lot of the Technical detail.

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Chapter 19

_**Moyan ship the Guard, in orbit Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System.**_

Captain Mace Croft looked across his plain metal desk at the being? Man? Sitting opposite him, not that there was any doubt about General Ka D'Argo's masculinity, but Mace had always assumed that being human or at least humanoid was a prerequisite. You learned something new every day, especially if you work for the Moyan Group.

To tell the truth, the large alien was more than a bit intimidating. A large portion of the Guards crew weren't human of course, but the Sebacean's well, they looked human, and Chiana just wasn't very scary looking. Pilot had certainly made Mace stare the first few times the Moyan Captain had met with the huge crustacean. But Rovhu's Pilot had such a gentle way about him; it was had not to warm up to the creature. General Ka D'Argo however with his deep red colouring, head tentacles, forehead and eyebrow ridges, didn't look human in the slightest. The half-angry, half-suspicious look on his face wasn't going far at putting Mace at ease either.

The big Luxan looked surprisingly comfortable sitting in one of the two armchair's set in front of Mace's desk. Sprawled slightly, but Captain Croft had been worried that he wouldn't fit at all.

They were alone in his office, Leda was leading the rest of the group from the Leviathan on a tour of their ship, but both leaders Croft and D'Argo had felt the need to talk privately since they'd first laid eyes on each other.

Now that they were here Mace wasn't sure what he'd wanted to say to his new, very alien boss. The silence stretched.

"Why are you doing this?" D'Argo asked after a minute waving vaguely around the Spartan silver metal office.

"Doing what?" Captain Croft settled back into his chair, he had a good idea of what the Luxan was asking having had many similar conversations with CDF officers and colonial civilians since the Holocaust. It put Mace back on familiar ground and drained a lot of the stress out of the big man.

"Why are you here, with the Moyan group? Why aren't you serving with the rest of the human forces, helping you own government? Why work for Crichton and from what I can see, waiting for me a Luxan and somebody you've never met to wake up to a completely new situation and take command? It doesn't seem to make sense." D'Argo asked. The Luxan had been thinking about this since he'd first met Clara Tores.

D'Argo knew that Tores had been a criminal before Crichton met her, guilty of serious crimes and imprisoned by the Colonial government with the Crofts and others that now served in the Moyan Company. It still seemed off to the Luxan for her and the others to be working for what in essence was a mercenary company. To swear loyalty to outsiders when their own peoples forces desperately needed every able bodied soldier they could get their hands on. Instead they'd let Crichton and Aeryn recruit them, it seemed foolish to D'Argo, from what he knew of Luxan and Peacekeeper practices either the ex-criminals use out weighed their crimes, in which case they should be put to work in Colonial service, or their crimes out weighed their use in which case they should be kept locked up, or more likely given how short of supplies the refugee humans were, executed. But to let them be recruited by an outside power, a power of uncertain loyalty? No, either the Colonial warriors were naive beyond belief, or Crichton had somehow maneuvered the Moyan Group into a position of power that seemed ludicrous.

"Why wouldn't you go go back with the CDF? I can understand Clara Tores joining the Moyan Group, it served her goals, she wished to use her linguist skills and training and the idea of working with what she calls 'real aliens' appeals to her. But you and the others here on the Guard and the rest of the Moyan Group, why would you work for us?"

"It's simple really Ka D'Argo I'd had enough of the CDF and the Quorum of Twelve and the Colonial bureaucracy. They used me and those under my command to do their dirty work, and then when things got tough they threw us to the wolves." The Moyan Captain grimaced.

"Well I can't speak for everyone that joined, some weren't CDF to start with and thought working for people, even aliens was a better deal than working for a faceless organization like the CDF. But for me it was the uniform, I come from a CDF family, my father was a lieutenant in the CDF in the first war and before that my grandfather and grandmother and their parents back gods know how many generation served in the Scorpian Civil Defense Forces before the Articles of Colonization were signed and each Colony still had their own fleets." Mace Croft explained. "When the CDF threw me and mine away that was it, there was no way I could ever serve under that flag again."

"Threw you away?" Questioned D'Argo.

"Before I was a Category One prisoner I was the first officer of the Light Cruiser _Vanguard_ my wife, Leda back before she became my wife, was the CAG " Here D'Argo looked confused so Croft explained "Commander Air Group its the traditional rank of the most senior pilot on board any ship with at least a wing of fighters." D'Argo nodded and Croft picked up his story. "Colonel Canad our CO was ordered to take the _Vanguard_ to Sagittaron and support the Colonial Marshals in their efforts to recapture an Anchorage that the Sagittaron Freedom Movement had hijacked. We were just on crowd control, keeping the news service ships and any to curious civilians from getting in the Marshals way, while they negotiated and worked to get the hostages released."

"It went ugly the S.F.M had an old Cylon war Defender Escortstar disguised as a merchant ship, it ran the blockade and tried to dock with the Anchorage to get their people out."

"Colonel Canad and the first shift command staff died when the _Vanguard_ took a coilgun round straight to the CIC. The battle was a mess, with civilians getting in the way the CMO trying to arrest the badguys rather than fighting or running like they should have, and by the time the dust settled the Anchorage had been holed and over a hundred of the hostages not to mention all the S.F.M terrorists were dead. Two CMO light patrol cutters had collided with each other and the Admiralty wanted someone to blame, they choose me and the surviving officers from the _Vanguard_."

"Everyone on the _Vanguard_ above the rank of Ensign was charged with Gross misconduct, Conduct unbecoming and 300 counts of murder."

"A quick show trial so everyone could see Adar and the CDF Admiralty 'Act quickly and decisively' and we were shipped off to the most out of the way hole they could stuff us in. When that dump finally started to fall apart they herded us all aboard the transport the Commanders found us on just after the Holocaust. We'd already been on that stinking ship nearly a year, while they tried to think of somewhere they could bury us. And the first thing that happens after the Holocaust? The frakking emergency council of the refugee fleet the transport joined voted unanimously to space us! Ha! To preserve resources for those more in need."

"That was straight after the Cylon attack, your people were scattered and afraid, from the brief that Clara Tores provided now; the Colonials are organized and the CDF would welcome you back. Wouldn't you rather work and fight with your fellow humans?" D'Argo pushed.

"Organized maybe but their still afraid and it wasn't due to any efforts on their part. I saw the briefing and it was accurate, but only as of right now. All those impressive sounding things the Hades Council, the labor unions and the businesses that are growing in Hades city and the CDF ships CMC troops? All that is because of Commanders Crichton and Sun and Colonel Torins wanted it that way. For months after the Holocaust there was only the Moyan Group, the CDF and CMC and the civilians where constantly two meals away from falling apart." Croft explained. "As for working with humans or aliens, most of my crew are Sebacean and I've come to respect them as much as any ships crew I've ever worked with."

Mace Croft sighed and looked at the being that would probably be his commanding officer in the not to distant future and decided to come clean. "I know that sounds more than a bit vindictive on my part, spurning the Colonies because they did me wrong and all that."

D'Argo looked at the human suddenly realizing that the man was right he had been thinking that here was a bitter little man who'd turned his back on his own race as the faced extinction because of the actions of a few politicians.

"How long where you in prison?" D'Argo himself had been left to rot for Cycles for a crime he didn't commit.

"Nine years before the Holocaust, but still if we'd somehow survived the refugee council I was planning on pitching in somehow. If they'd have let me run a warship I would have done it under any flag or wearing any uniform even the CDF, but thing is I didn't need to, I joined the Moyan Group I don't have pretend to respect the bastards."

"How about working for an Alien then? From that same brief, it looks like John is going to ask me to take over running the Moyan Group's armed forces which would include you. He also wants to see the Moyan soldiers and ships move further away from the CDF to make the Moyan warriors into as distinct a force from the Colonial as possible." D'Argo asked.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it and get used to the idea Commanders Crichton and Sun informed all the Moyan Group ship masters that as soon as the Hades fleet started meeting up with other refugee groups in operation Bo-Peep the Moyan Group armed forces would be re-structured and that they hoped that you would take command." Croft said. Then paused before continuing. "I don't know you General D'Argo I have no idea if you are competent to command, but thats nothing new. I've faced the same prospect every time I moved to new posting all the way through my career. I have the assurances from Commander Sun and Commander Crichton that your a good man, but nether have experience serving under your command."

D'Argo stared at the human, wondering. It was a legitimate statement, he'd never commanded a fleet or even a single ship for that matter. He had trained at the Luxan War College to be able to plan and lead ground attacks from commando squads all the way up to regiments. To be able to captain an Assault Piercer or serve as a Commodore of a squadron of ten of the ships in times of war. But he'd never done any of those things. Before he'd excepted a position in the Luxan Guard he'd fallen in love and married Lo'Laan a Sebacean woman, not against any law but frowned on by both the Luxan government and the Peacekeepers and much to young something that put the priesthood against him. His recommendations from the War College for a placement as a junior officer in the Guard had been rescinded. He'd joined one of the Luxan free company's, private armies formed by rich warrior clans to fight Scorvians alongside their Ilanic cousins. He'd served with them for ten Cycles before he'd retired to become a farmer. Two Cycle's spent at home with his wife then the birth of his son, the betrayal by his brother in law, eight cycles a prisoner of the Peacekeepers. Then the escape and the life of a fugitive in Uncharted Territories where he'd met John Crichton and Aeryn Sun. The life he'd had up to now hadn't really prepared him for a position of command with a group of humans. But it didn't rule him out either.

"I will be talking to Crichton and Aeryn before I except any position, but I am a Luxan Warrior decorated in battle and graduate Superior of the War College of Luxor. If I am to be the future commander for you and your comrades I will do my best, on my honor." D'Argo didn't think there was much more he could say to the man. The Luxan didn't know many of Crichton's plans. Seran the Sebacean woman who was apparently some form of close aid, so much so that Crichton had trusted her with D'Argo's Qualta blade, had told him some things. But they sounded outlandish even for the crazy human who most of the time D'Argo had known him had spent nearly every waking moment either obsessing over Aeryn Sun and Wormholes or trying desperately to save everyone's life from whatever new catastrophe the universe had thrown up to kill them this time. The plans Seran had hinted at seemed much more long term and much too grandiose for the John Crichton D'Argo knew and the big Luxan wanted to talk to him and Aeryn Sun before he agreed to anything.

_Moyan Compound, Civilian City, Hades Command Ship, Gold Mine System._

The civilian city, named Athens by some wildly optimistic refugee with a taste for ancient legends, now covered nearly half of the deck space at ground level in one of _Hades_ huge warehouses, and was still growing.

From its beginnings as a series of squat bolted together featureless boxes, fitted with the very basic amenities needed for human survival, it had been torn down and rebuilt even before its first evolution was complete, and had been growing ever since. Today it could really be called a city, a small one, but still a real living, breathing, city. The name Athens, despite objections, stuck, not that anybody used it except on official documents, it was just 'Hades City' or 'the Town' or 'the City'. Now the busy hub that the first civilians from the _Galactica_ fleet were tentatively exploring was a very different Athens from its humble beginnings, it had been redesigned and improved a dozen times. While it would still look like a particularly well organized scrapyard compared to any of the great city's on Caprica, Virgon or Tauron for here and now it was an impressive sight.

Despite the rapid construction still going on all over, the core and general street layout were in place, a huge spider web of streets criss crossed the small metropolis. Hundreds of multi story apartment buildings lined the outer circle of streets before giving way to the taller factory's and office complexes, the theater, the bars, the massive New Parthenon where the Hades Council met and where the fleet government was slowly forming and that was only the downtown, more up market area.

Just over one kilometer from the hydroponically supported village green, that marked Athens exact center, was the New Caprica Casino and the resort/gaming town that had sprouted up around it. The Strip as it was called after the main travel car lane that passed along its widest and most populated road from the Central Station across the village green from the New Parthenon to the huge rebuilt Cylon factory complex just outside the Athens warehouse where most of the civilians worked, recycling Cylon equipment to build everything the 50.000 plus inhabitants of the Hades fleet needed.

Between the two hubs Downtown and The Strip there were various area's that had been claimed by groups or people that thought they saw some potential for it. Most of these where just a section of the metal decking with a line painted around it and maybe the claimants name. Only a few had been actually used for anything so far, one was a huge pile of those same featureless boxes that had been slapped together after the Holocaust as refugee housing, now the Athens city council (not to be confused with the _Hades_ Council) rented them out as storage space. Another was a well built, fenced off compound made up of several large substantial looking buildings with a large imposing looking main gate that faced a road leading into Downtown, Here guards wearing Colonial Marine Corps uniforms, but with Moyan unit flashes and insignia, patrolled the fence line and stopped visitors to check their credentials.

Captain Dors Dham nodded to the two guards as he walked through the wide armored doors that led into reception for the compounds main building. He noted with approval the rigid snapping to attention that they acknowledged his presence with. None of the ridiculous arm waving the Colonial militaries were so in love with. A pure Sebacean gesture even if, as he remembered, these two troopers on sentry duty at the compound's entrance were human recruits.

Dors Dham was in a odd position in the Moyan Group, he was a member of one of only two 'Sets' of Xarai duplicates that retained enough of themselves that when they recovered from Cauldron they'd known their own names and remembered some of their originals personal history.

The two 'Sets', three Dors Dham's and five Janis Thonn's had known they were Peacekeepers when they'd finally started thinking again, after the numbness and confusion of the Builder Goo had worn off. He'd remembered commanding the Leviathan prison transport Rovhu and had vague ideas about serving on a Command Carrier before that. And he knew that the Janis Thonn's remembered leading their/his? Commando squad, escorting the deranged scientist Kaarvok from a secure facility deep in the Uncharted Territories to his cell aboard Rovhu.

Both 'Sets' had known instantly that the concept of Irreversible Contamination wouldn't even begin to describe how Peacekeeper Command would view the Xarai. They would be very, very lucky indeed, if they were shot on sight, it was much more likely that there would be bisections and pre-mortem autopsy's involved, if High Command ever gained any power over them.

So now here they were, stranded for the moment, further than anybody had ever been from Sebacean controlled space and Dors Dham was one of the few who could organize and lead them.

Except by the time he'd realized that, the Xarai had already been following Crichton and Sun for months and he himself along with the rest of his 'Set' had been trusted lieutenants and assistants working closely with the Human and learning to trust his orders. Leading the teams working on the _Hades_ and corvettes they where trying to get operational. By the time he realized he was a natural choice to lead the Xarai the Dors Dham were already loyal supporters who hadn't wanted to challenge for leadership. Even if he'd had any idea of what to do in their bizarre situation and had come up with some plan that he could put forward to compete with Crichton's leadership, he doubted any of the other Xarai would have even considered following one of the Dors Dham 'Set' over the Sun, Crichton team.

One of his 'Set' had tried anyway. The man, Dors guessed he would have been something like a planet born recruits brother, an alien concept for the crèche raised Peacekeeper had first tried to gain support among the Xarai talking up Sebacean superiority. It hadn't worked few Xarai even considered themselves Sebacean and when that hadn't worked the fool had gone to Aeryn Sun and offered his support in removing John Crichton and restoring 'natural' Sebacean leadership to the Xarai.

The Dors Dham standing in the Moyan offices waiting for his aid to join him, hadn't been surprised that that was the last anybody had ever seen of his 'Set' brother. Truth be told he was rather embarrassed that the man (Near enough his exact copy) hadn't known exactly what would happen.

His other 'Set' brother was the Captain of the Moyan corvette the _Defender_, which was currently in one of the _Hades_, dry docks being refitted with Moyan technology. He was due there at 1800 hours tomorrow to witness the small ships launch.

Captain Dors Dham turned slightly as he caught sight of his aid coming through the foray's wide double doors. Lieutenant Mark Usen, the tall young human repeated his Captains gesture, acknowledging the Sebacean salutation to a superior officer from the troopers guarding the entrance with a nod. A nod that was, an all but, exact copy of the one Captain Dham had delivered two minutes previously.

"You're late." Captain Dham commented as the human Moyan joined him at the reception desk.

"Yes sir, sorry sir. Couldn't be helped, the Xiphos is in a bit of an uproar at the moment, people being transferred off, new crew arriving every minute. Captain Carter kept me on for an extra four hours before he'd sign off on my reassignment papers, until I'd supervised the ratings of the two new shuttle pilots he'd received." Mark answered easily he'd served with Captain Dham for three months and knew his moods and tones of voice backwards and forwards. He could tell the Xarai Captain was pleased to see him.

"Damn drunkard, he should to keep his hands of other peoples personnel. And stay the frell out of Moyan business!" Captain Dham stated as he set off, leading Lieutenant Usen deeper into the building.

Mark kept his opinions to himself, he certainly wasn't going to agree with a comment like that, no mater that the Moyan and CDF didn't have a lot to do with each other when they were working as separate organizations, junior officers still didn't comment on superior officers habits. And besides the vast number of Moyan's were seconded to CDF run units, anybody they passed in the hall could next week be serving on the Calypso class frigate that he'd just left.

"So how did you enjoy working as a Disrupter Lieutenant?" Captain Dham asked as the two Moyan officers started down a neat hallway, a hallway that angled down sharply, heading below what the civilian inhabitants of the city would think of as the ground.

"It was an experience sir. Sneaking onto a Battlestar in the middle of a fighter skirmish, holding a gun to a Colonels head, and then being looked up, meeting the president; you don't get many opportunities to do stuff like that." Mark answered.

"There's a reason for that Mark." Captain Dham smiled at the young human Dors had grown quite fond of him since Mark had been assigned to Dham as an aid, shortly after the Human/Cylon Holocaust.

"If I may sir; where are we going, I was told I was to accompany you to an appointment at the Council Building to meet Major Perseus?" Lieutenant Usen asked as the two entered into a large room, the wide circler room held the doors to half a dozen elevators spotted around the wall.

"I've been requested to attend at the labs, something to do with getting my opinion on Peacekeeper tech their trying to fabricate; using materials we have on hand. Rather than the proscribed ingredients from the formula, your Gods know why they think I can help them. But the Techs; especially Colonel Harmon, have got the authority, that when they say jump I apparently am supposed to politely inquire how high, on my way up!" Captain Dham grumbled as he picked an elevator that wasn't in use and marched into the cubicle stabbing the button for the level third from the bottom out of his twenty-six choices.

"What kind of tech Sir?" Lieutenant Usen asked. The doors to the lift closed and there was a slight jolt as the cabin started down.

"No idea. Colonel Harmon said they needed my expert advice, so that's what we're doing. I've re scheduled the meeting with the Colonial Marshal's they were not impressed." Dors told his young Aid. "So now that you've got you're rank back is it giving you ideas Mark?"

"How do mean sir? I was only a Lieutenant Junior Grade for a week and Captain Carter knew my reverting to my Cadet rank was only for the benefit of the Galactica people."

"I know your sister, your younger sister at that is a Captain; the CAG serving on the Medusa. I wondered if this experience had set you thinking about what might have been. What if you'd never joined the Moyan Group, what would have happened if you'd stayed in the Colonial Defense Forces?" The elevator was picking up speed even with the inertial dampeners it could be felt, as it descended.

"Not really sir, the Moyan Group suits me well enough I couldn't imagine spending all my time be a pilot it was always Susan 's dream to fly Vipers, me? I just wanted to go to space." The elevator slowed then came to stop the doors sliding open into another reception area this one had one wall dominated by a huge window looking down into a wide Lab on the level below.

The two Moyan officers were quickly buzzed through a connecting door by the secretary at the desk and down a short flight of stairs, into what both had been told at different times was the splitting image of Q's Laboratory at MI6 in London, a city on the Thirteenth Tribes home world.

"Oh you have to be kidding me!" Dors exclaimed.

"Not at all, I and the rest of the Techs as you so dismissively call us are just trying, once again; to plan ahead. While you and your Troopers run around blowing things up, it falls to us, the Scientist's and Technicians! To build and to plan!" The tall heavyset brunette almost vibrated with passion as she made her declaration. Waving her arm to point out the seven human shaped dummies set up in one corner of the Lab they were each clothed in different outfits of what looked like red and black leather.

Mark Usen looked from one to the other the viper pilot barely understanding one word in five as his head swung back and forth between the Captain and the Scientist It was hard to believe these two were married. Colonel Harmon had marched across the room as soon as he and Captain Dham had entered the room and began speaking in fast Sebacean. Now they were both shouting at each other in still Sebacean. Normally Mark rated his understanding of the Xarai language as pretty good but Colonel Harmon had been with the Moyan Group since almost the second Commander Crichton had stepped foot on Colonial soil and of course it was Captain Dham's first language when they got going it was hard for someone like him who hadn't even heard of it before the Holocaust to keep up.

"You dragged me from a meeting with the head of the Colonial Marshals to get my advice on your wardrobe selection? Are you mad?" Dham snapped at the Scientist.

"Oh hardy har har! Careful there Dors, you were nearly funny that time." Lynn Harmon Dham told her husband. "Commander Crichton has said numerous times that sooner or later the Colonial Defense Force and the Colonial Marines are going to start objecting to us wearing their uniforms."

"Peacekeepers have been refining their uniform design for thousands of years and we have complete schematics and chemical formulas to work from, it would be stupid not to at least base our efforts on their work. Not that we're going to copy them. Moyan uniforms and tactical armor will, when we're finished, be far superior in every conceivable way. But first we need to fully reverse engineer their designs and chemical composition. And the easiest way to do that is to make some of our own."

"Looking at the data Rovhu and his pilot provided, it's obvious that Peacekeeper personal armor technology has fallen well behind in the 'attack to defense dynamic' during the last few centuries. It only provides the most minimal of protection against most of the documented weapons common in Peacekeeper space and the Uncharted Territories."

"We can and will do a much better job, even with our poor supply situation."

Mark gave up trying to interpret the rapid fire conversation going on between his two superior officers and wandered over to inspect the uniforms he suspected were the main topic of discussion. Starting from one end of the line and working along, the first one that was matte black trimmed with blood red with the upper chest area in all red, maybe an officer's dress uniform? Going down the line the suits had less red and more black, with steel colored armor plates set in strategic, and sometimes not so strategic place about the body, until the last one was all black and looked like most of it was covered in glossy black molded armor, complete with helmet, hung on a black leather body suit. It all looked pretty uncomfortable compared to his CDF blue/gray uniform.

"What do you think?" Mark jerked, startled to find Colonel Harmon standing right next and asking him questions in standard Kobolian.

"Er.. " Floundering for something positive to say about the woman's work, he latched onto the first thing that popped into his head. "There very ... bright?"

"Ha! Yes, say what you like about Peacekeeper uniforms they certainly aren't subtle!" Lynn Harmon laughed grabbing her husband's aid by his arm and dragging him behind her marched across the lab to where a bench was set up covered in guns. From Colonial pre Holocaust pistols, all the way up to the _Hades_ factory's latest model of pulse rifle. "They may hurt your eyes to look at, but damn they can take a licking and keep on ticking!"

Without looking the Moyan Scientist grabbed one of the weapons off the table and Mark belatedly realized the dummies across the room and this bench where set up as Ad hoc shooting range. Pushing the service battle rifle into his hands she scooped up a pair of ear muffs. "Go ahead put a few rounds into the first one, it's the weakest."

The Lieutenant threw his boss a pleading look at his boss but Captain Dham ignored him and walking straight past him to collect his own ear protection. Resignedly Mark went through his weapons drill making sure the gun was loaded, then collecting a set of muffs and goggles for himself, before lining up the rifles sights on the first dummy's brilliant red chest.

The last time Mark had actually used an assault rifle had been back at the Academy on Picon somehow in the months since the Holocaust with all the moving from ship to ship and his mission to the _Galactica_ he'd missed his mandatory re qualification but as the young man snuggled the bulky rifle into his shoulder, he was pretty sure he had the thing set for three round bursts. He carefully squeezed the trigger remembering at the last second to brace for the recoil holding on tight as the rifle kicked and bucked back in his grip.

BRRRAPT!

_Cyrannus System, Cylon new Territories_

The Cyrannus System defense force had started out with 48 Basestars of the new starfish shaped Mark III design, 8 Resurrection Ships and 1 Command Basestar, all selected from the original 100 strong battle fleet that had invaded the Colonial Territories.

Over the months since the Liberation the numbers had been changed, whittled down, or reinforced as the Gestalt juggled their assets to manage their unexpected, overwhelming victory, over the humans.

4 Mark III's and a Resurrection Ship had been dispatched to hunt down the _Galactica_ flotilla, then another 10 Basestars and 2 Resurrection Ships were sent out to search for other suspected human groups. 6 old MK II's had escorted the newly completed Interdiction Platforms from the staging system just across the old Colonial/Cylon border. Basestar's _0209_ disastrous battle with the Battlestar _Medusa_ in the Nike system had necessitated the formation of a new hunter group of 3 Basestars plus another Resurrection Ship. Then the destruction of the Tern System depot had prompted the reinforcing of that group with another 2 Mk III's and the 2 of the Interdiction Platforms and their 4 Mk II escorts.

That left 29 Mk III's, 2 Mk II's, 4 Resurrection Ships to secure Cyrannus System and protect the Command Basestar the Gestalt was using as a flagship and a mobile fortress. The 29 Mk III's were spread out over the inner so called 'Life Zone' of the multi-planet system, patrolling the orbits of the 12 Colonial home worlds. Each Colonial home world had a resident Mk III stationed as a permanent guardship. 5 slow moving picket groups of 3 manoeuvred in a huge solar orbit just beyond the reach of Aerelon, the Colonial home world furthest out from the Cyrannus systems star. The remainder of the Cylon forces 2 Mk III's 2 Mk II's and the remaining newly deployed Interdiction Platform stayed close to The Gestalt's Command Basestar over Caprica.

Of the 52 remaining Frontline Mk III's that had originally made the 100 strong Crusader Fleet 3 had been lost in the Liberation. 20 had been sent back to bolster the defense forces of the staging system where the invasion fleets shipyards and supply base had been built. 26 were taking possession of the new territories, slowly taking control of the conquered space, escorting small fleets of older ships setting up small bases and searching out pockets of surviving humans. Three had been crippled by the surviving Colonial Battlestars and been stripped and scuttled.

_Gestalt Command Basestar, High orbit Caprica, Cyrannus System._

The space around Caprica had changed radically since the Cylon attack.

From a hub of traffic, busy with the business of the dozen spaceports of the Colonial capital, full to bursting with ships of all shapes and sizes, from the smallest shuttle up to the largest one or two kilometer long giants it had become a graveyard. Littered with broken hulls, clogged with the debris of CDF capital ships the shattered remains of their escorts, all surrounded by fighters of every Mark. For every drifting warship there were dozens of the wrecks of their civilian charges of every conceivable configuration. The conquered planet had dragged this morgue full of countless drifting body's, both human and machine, along with it, as it slowly circled its sun. Hundred of the wrecks closest to Caprica had been caught in the planets gravity, falling from the sky, finally receiving a fiery burial, but thousands remained trapped seemingly forever in the cold of space.

But recently the new masters had acted to change things again.

Nearly a month ago hundreds of Cylon small craft of a design never seen before in Colonial space had arrived, a swarm of them launching from a Basestar newly arrived from Cylon space, roughly four times the size of a Heavy Raider at 44 meters long 11 meters height and 27 meters width these odd Y shaped ships held a lot in common with the basic shape of the Mk III Cylon Basestars and where made from the same dark colored, organic imitating alloy. But unlike most Cylon designs these had had a chunky mechanical look about them, more like a Heavy Raider than a Raider or a Basestar. One arm was longer than the others and mounted a Scimitar class Raider's style head/canopy with the scanning red eye. The two shorter arms were dotted with evenly spaced heavily constructed hard points, each supporting industrial equipment of some kind, welders or waldo remote manipulators equipped grasping arms.

These where Cylon repair/construction/tugs units called Utilities, designed for salvage and repair and as support for Basestars and Raiders.

They moved into the drifting graveyard surrounding Caprica and began hauling the debris away, arranging anything that looked salvageable neatly in orbit around the only surviving Anchorage above Saladin, Caprica's second moon, while millions of tons of broken metal were dropped onto the broken ruins of the moons destroyed dome cities.

The Utilities worked tirelessly with their small army of space mobile construction model Centurions, darting about in their thruster packs following the ship minds orders. Within the last month they had returned space around Caprica to a pristine state not seen in hundreds of years, not since the Capricians had constructed their first space station. Once they had done the Cylon Utilities had retreated to their Basestar and moved on to other jobs, but the area they had cleared hadn't remained idle for long, as soon as the Basestar had jumped out a new ship had taken its place.

This was the Gestalt's Crusader class Command Basestar, designed to replace the first war Hades class. It was in a word, huge!

Instead of the Mk III's Basestars design of two inverted 'Y's, here three massive 'X' shaped hulls sat stacked together, connected to a central core. Each 'X' twisted at sixty degrees from the other. 8 kilometers long and the same wide, while 6 kilometer in height. Not having the shear tonnage and bulk of the older Hades class command basestars, it was still a massive ship. Thirty launch racks held 1200 Raiders and 200 Heavy Raiders, 20 escort cruisers sat ready in docking bays spread across the black gray hull. An honor guard of Mk III's Basestars was always in formation with the Fleet's flagship. On watch, guarding the Gestalt.

This was the Cylon command center, the core of the Crusader fleet.

An astute observer would have noticed a slight difference in the coloring of the central 'X' shaped hull to the replicas attached above and below. This was the beginning, the ship that had brought the 7 organic models of the Crusader fleet from the home world, three years journey past the treaty line, back to Colonial space.

20 years ago it had arrived, accompanied by the first two Mk III Basestars, the first Resurrection Ship and a small fleet of first war era battle, support and construction ships.

They had set their drone Centurions to work, establishing their staging ground in an empty, lifeless star system rich in raw materials close to the treaty line, built shipyards and habitats and sent their first tentative probes across the border.

Since then the command ship had been strengthened, the Biocylons copying what they could of the original design, to double, and then triple its defenses to protect the Gestalt resting in the ship's armored core. The Gestalt, the melding of 12 copies of each of the 7 active Crusader Cylon's who had never been downloaded into biological bodies served as the New Cylons master governing intelligence, directing and interrupting Gods plan, leading the new Cylon empire. All new Cylon A.I.s from the 7 fully sentient models placed in the human forms, the hybrids, the lesser ship minds that controled the Raiders down to the barely conscious programs for the Centurions drones, they were all generated from the Gestalt.

It was the heart and soul of the Crusader Fleet.

The next step in the plan would see a one second built, but that was slow going and a matter of fierce debate, could the community of minds that was the Gestalt designed and constructed by God, be replicated? Should it be, wasn't that blasphemy?

The argument had raged for over twenty years, but the construction was going ahead anyway on orders from the Gestalt.

Placing a new Gestalt on Caprica would cement the Cyrannus system as the new home to the Cylon race. With a second Gestalt to hold the Cylon networks the original could begin Its/Their long awaited pilgrimage back into Cylon space, to their birth place and there consult with God about the next steps in the His Plan.

The problem was the Gestalt wasn't quite ready, the Liberation had been too much of a success and the Cylon forces where spread too thin to take maximum advantage of all their gains.

Since the heady first days of the liberation when their plan had been such an overwhelming success, beyond anything they'd expected, the campaign at first seemingly over and won had bogged down. That the Galactica Fleet still survived was permissible, it was a constant topic of debate among the Cylons and the Gestalt itself about the merits of letting that group run and following them to the Thirteenth Tribe or possibly catching them and setting them up as a control group of free breeders for the Biocylon fertility experiments, Yes, that the Galactica group had been able to avoid the squadron of Basestars sent after it was annoying, but acceptable and may be an indication of Gods plan. The others? The groups of wild humans running rampant on the former Colonial planets, the other refugee flotillas that the scouts kept getting hints at, the strange behavior of more and more of the Human Form models and most of all the so called Nike System Fleet these were not acceptable and could not be tolerated, but the efforts of the officers of the Crusader Fleet to solve these problems had so far been ineffective.

Now two agents had returned asking for reinforcements, with evidence that they'd run one group, possibly even the Nike System Fleet to ground. The Gestalt had agreed, even releasing two of the three completed Interdiction platforms to them. But before the Gestalt could savor the coming Cylon victory, a battle had broken out on the surface of Caprica, an attack by humans in an area that the Gestalt had plans. Then the quick response strike force, sent to suppress the human's, was ambushed and now it looked like the terrorists might be able to break contact and escape, what else could go wrong?

_Cauldron Artifact, Cauldron System._

Naxos let its numerous sub systems continue work on adapting the new templates to function most efficiently with the Levitation's Rovhu existing biomechanical infrastructure. All that remained were small, mostly cosmetic changes; the main integration had been accomplished and was near ready for installation. Naxos felt itself free to investigate, unimportant but decidedly irregular, data collected in the investigation and cataloging of the Levitation's Rovhu memories.

The method of Rovhu's arrival was anomalous, Starburst did not have the capacity to travel such a distance given the limitations of energy Levitations could produce. Also the recorded sensor reading of both Rovhu view of the journey from the Uncharted Territories to the Cauldron System and Naxos memories from external sensors of the Levitation's arrival bore only the most superficial resemblance to what was expected from the exit event of a Starburst maneuver.

A/N

Next we check in on Crichton.

Dren: Vulgar term equivalent to "shit", or an unwanted substance or act.


End file.
